The Price of Fame
by PockyisLife
Summary: "A lot of people want to become famous- famous actors, famous actresses, in our case, famous singers. We all want the fame, the glory, the recognition and ultimately, the money. And most will go through great lengths to get what they want. The question you have to ask is: in the end, is it worth it?" Set in 1960s New York City.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer:**** I do not own Glee or any song that may appear throughout the story. I am only using the show and the songs for entertainment and non-profit purposes. This disclaimer is in affect for the entire story.**

**Author's Note:**** This is a repost of a story from last year. I didn't like where it was going and it contained so many errors that I was embarrassed that I posted it (I apologize for that). Since I have some free time for the next couple of months, I have decided to completely reedit, revamp and continue the entire thing. **

**I hope you enjoy it!**

**Prologue**

"Congratulations, Ms. Jones, Ms. Lopez and Ms. Cohen-Chang. The three of you have passed our very competitive audition process with flying colors. I am proud to say: welcome to McKinley Records. As you may know, we are the most musically diverse record company in the country, no, the world. We represent everything from soul, jazz to rock and roll and folk. You will represent our first all-girl soul group."

If someone told Mercedes Jones that she was going to be in the middle of New York City, sitting in front of the president of one of the biggest record companies in the United States with her two best friends, she might have laughed right in said person's face and walked away

But this was actually happening.

In real life.

She was not hallucinating.

Mercedes Jones was going to be signed to a major label and would finally be able to achieve her dream.

Mercedes did not plan to trek all the way from Lima to New York and practically be dragged to McKinley Records office by a scout. She only came to the Big Apple because she- well, Santana- thought, and rightfully so, that if she wanted any type of stardom, she would either have to go to New York, Hollywood or Europe. There was nowhere in Hell, her mother was going to let her leave the country, and Hollywood was completely out of the question.

She could not believe she was at _the_ McKinley Records. Her dream, a dream that was almost twenty years old, was to become a world-famous singer. A dream that she mother said that was never going to come true, along with her pastor and most of her family and friends. It wasn't that they did not think she was talented; anyone with a good ear knew that. It was just that according to everyone but her, each person dreamed big and more times than not, those dreams never happened.

But Mercedes proved them wrong.

She could not wait to call home and tell her folks the good news.

Mercedes grinned at the thought of her mother fainting from shock or excitement and one of her aunts waving a fan in front of her, trying to bring her out of her trance while prophesying in a loud booming voice about the Merselles winning a Grammy. Her family was going to cause a riot and she couldn't wait to hear their reactions.

She gave her two band mates, Santana and Tina, an even wider grin. It was finally happening. She was going to be a singer- a famous singer with a record label, well-known record label; not one of those labels that promised everything and provided nothing, but a label that had seen many of their acts land on the charts. Mercedes could picture the Merselles going on the plane for the first time, traveling across the country, or better yet, the world performing at some of the grandest stages to ever exist.

Maybe they would be able to perform at the Apollo. Then she knew for sure, that her mother would faint _and_ have a heart attack.

Santana was ecstatic. After all, it was her idea to come to New York in the first place. She gave her two band mates a smug smirk. Yeah, she was good; she expected a very long and sincere 'thank you' from Tina and Mercedes once this meeting was over and a free dinner.

Tina tried to hold back her tears; she did not want to ruin her eye makeup and look like a clown in front of her new boss. "Thank you so much, Mr. Johnson, for this opportunity," she said, voice breaking as she attempted to remain as composed as possible. She could not explain how grateful she was. "You do not understand how much this means to us."

"Please, call me Billy," Billy insisted with a wide smile plastered on his face. This group was going to press to his company; he could just _feel_ it. "Mr. Johnson makes me appear old. And you're welcome. I am always willing to help the talented out."

Tina quietly apologized.

Billy Johnson was the president of McKinley Records. He was a rather short, middle-aged man, had a bald spot that he tried and failed to cover up with a toupee- it was the thought that counted. He was a businessman with a good ear for talent and he only allowed the best of the best to join his record company that he literally built from the ground up.

McKinley Records had a very admirable reputation in the music world. Not many companies could boast having singers from every race and every music genre. Heck, he even began signing some soul and rhythm and blues groups- three to be more exact. He wanted to sign more, especially all-male groups but unfortunately, a certain record company in Detroit that he refused to name, appeared to be winning that competition.

But he refused to be bitter about it, even if his vice president often suggested otherwise. So that record company had a lot of all- black groups, big deal. He had a multiethnic group, who could sing just as good as the "assembly line" girl groups Hitsville seemed to pop out every other second. If not better. He was going to win the rhythm and blues charts even if it killed him.

"You ladies are special. This is the most diverse singing group in the country. A Negro, a Latina and an Asian in one group- never heard of. You three are going to be stars. No, bigger than that, superstars. Everyone will know your name. You'll be able to go the most exclusive parties, go to places that you can only dream of. This ladies, is the dream that all inspiring signers dream of. You have been blessed, you hear me, blessed. As long as you do what you are supposed to do and provide the goods, you all will live as queens."

Santana, not impressed because she had heard those same exact words plenty of times before, crossed her arms and scoffed, "Stars? We haven't even made a hit record yet."

Mercedes nudged the Latina with an elbow. That woman needed to learn how to control her mouth before she got all three of them in trouble. She did not travel all this way just to get her dream and job taken away from her.

Billy gave Santana a sharp look. He could already tell that she was going to be a handful. "You are correct Ms. Lopez. You guys are not stars yet, but if you what are supposed to do then I don't see why that cannot happen."

Tina side glanced Santana.

Yes, so Santana was a bit skeptical. She had her own share of bad experiences with record company presidents always promising but falling short of them every single damn time. She supposed she could try this one out, since Billy Johnson was in charge of a legitimate company and not running one out of a basement of a friend of a family friend's cousin's house.

She did not want to talk about that.

Billy leaned back in his chair. He could picture it now. The Merselles- he was going to need to change that name; it was downright horrifying- was going to have hits after hits after hits. Because come on, Santana could attract the Hispanic audience. Mercedes, the Negro and Tina, the Asian. If they do it right, they could attract the white audience too. "First thing's first, who will be the lead singer?"

He had decided, against the wishes of his vice president, to let the new group have some agency. He didn't see a reason why he shouldn't let the girls, no women, choose their own leader. Of course if something happened, he would change the lineup himself.

The three women looked at Billy. Wasn't it obvious? Mercedes was singing lead throughout the entire audition. Santana and Tina did not even bother trying to challenge that. Mercedes Jones was the lead singer; she was the lead four years ago when the group formed and she was going to be the leader when they became famous, not that she hogged the position. Santana was too hotheaded and impatient to do it- she admitted that herself. Tina and the spotlight did not get along, at least not yet- Mercedes swore that she was going to make Tina loosen up while performing, even if that was the last thing she did.

"Ms. Mercedes Jones," Santana responded. "She is the best singer out of all of us. And you know that's true when I am willing to admit that because I know I can sing."

Tina shook her head. "Way to stay humble."

Santana shrugged. "I'm trying my best."

"Mercedes," Billy asked, purposely ignoring Santana's comment. "Is that true?"

"Yes, sir."

"Well then, it's settled. Ms. Jones will be the leader singer, congratulations. You will be given a tour today. You have some free time until tomorrow morning. The first week is what I like to refer to as 'hell week.' It is very important that the three of you retain every bit of information you will learn during this week. You won't be able to go to the studio until next week- hopefully by then, you will be groomed into real singers."

And with that, Billy Johnson paged his secretary to bring in the vice president. He let out a deep breath. "Have you made up name for the group? I do not want to sound unreasonable, but Merselles is not very attractive name. Good bands need to have good, catchy names."

Tina gave Mercedes and Santana a dirty look; this was exactly what she said during that god-awfully long bus ride to New York. But no, Mercedes said it was not a big deal and Santana was too busy complaining about the lack of heat to even care.

"We are working on that," Mercedes responded, feeling a bit guilty.

"What about 'The Limettes?' We are from Lima and it's catchy."

Santana and Mercedes exchanged horrified looks.

"The Limettes?" Santana asked as if it was the most ridiculous name she had ever heard. "Come on, we can be more creative than that. I love Lima and all, but really? That's a lame name."

"It's not that bad," Mercedes countered, signaling Santana to shut her mouth. They could argue about this when the head of the record company wasn't in their presence. "And we can change it later, right?"

"Right," Billy nodded in agreement. It wasn't the best name, but it was certainly better than Merselles. "It's settled. You three will be known as the Limettes. I will make sure that my assis- Ah, Emma! Just the person I wanted to see."

"Hello, Mr. Johnson," Emma said smiling as she walked inside the office. She stopped to straighten out her pink floral dress then faced the Limettes. "And you three must be the new girl group."

The Limettes did not know what to say.

Emma extended her hand but instantly put it at her side- she just washed her hands- and said in welcoming voice, "Hello, my name is Emma Pillsbury. I am the vice president of McKinley Records. If you need any help or any questions feel free to ask me." She straightened up her posture and folded her hands. "It will be advisable to ask me first if you need to ask Mr. Johnson anything. He doesn't like when people ask him arbitrary questions."

Emma Pillsbury was the vice president of McKinley Records- an amazing feat. She was the only female executive in the American music business. She was constantly reminded by fellow male peers that she should have remained a secretary since a vice president was considered "man's" job, but she did not care. She worked her butt off for that position and because of this, she took everything seriously. Some claimed that Emma was too intense and liked to take things to another level. To her, she was just doing her job.

Santana was not impressed; Emma looked more like a housewife than a vice president.

"That is not true."

Emma Pillsbury gave her boss a look and continued, "Now come along, there is much to be done. But first, I will give you a tour of the McKinley Records headquarters."

Emma wasted no time talking about the record company when the ladies left Billy's office. She was excited about the new addition. This was the first time McKinley had a girl group that sang soul and rhythm blues; the rest of the girl groups did pop.

"I like how you three color-coded your outfits. It's really neat."

The Limettes wore matching red dresses, matching shoes and matching hairstyles. Santana thought the idea was tacky. They weren't triplets for heaven's sake, but Tina insisted that they were a group and therefore had to dress as such. Mercedes thought the idea was cute and so did Billy. Actually, that was the first thing he said to the girl group when they walked into his office.

"I always believe it is more fitting for girls in the groups to wear matching outfits. It shows that they are in a cohesive girl group, with not one person standing out."

Santana had wanted to mention that all members of the Limettes were in their twenties and should no longer be referred to as "girls" but from the warning look she received from Mercedes, she decided not to feed intok her temptations.

"Thank you," the Limettes said in unison.

Emma stopped and faced the girl group. She cleared her throat and clutched her clipboard tightly. "Before we begin, I would like to address some pointers. First, we have some rules and regulations that everyone need to adhere to in order to make this company and your careers as successful as possible. Remember that as a member of McKinley Records, you represent us and only us. Please do not embarrass us or do anything that will harm the reputation of the record company. Also, please, do not engage any kind of relationship that is not approved by the record company; this especially includes having any relationships with other acts. I understand that you are young women and there are times when you will be faced with… temptations, but we aim to have our employees behave as professional as possible. I am aware that this may sound a bit harsh, but you are now public figures. The media will follow your every move and they love when public figures act out of line."

Emma gave the trio a small smile before leading them down the hall. "Let me introduce some main actors in the company. As you may already know, Billy Johnson is the president and I am the vice president. Since you do not have a manager as of right now, we will serve as such until you find one. It is highly advisable that all issues you have be addressed to either Billy or me. We have different people in charge of different things. Sue Sylvester is in charge of the whi-," Emma cleared her throat. She wanted to be as politically correct as possible. After all, she was in the presence of minorities. "Pop girl groups. Do you know the Cheerios?"

"Isn't that a type of cereal?"

Tina laughed.

Emma looked at Santana as if the Latina just insulted her. She took a deep breath, reminded herself that she was dealing with an untrained group of women and replied with, "Yes, but they are also our top girl group in the company. They had three number hits this year and it's only February. Anyway, I highly advise you to stay clear from Sue. She can kind of be a- what is the proper word- intense."

"You mean she's a bitch?"

Emma's eyes widened as her jaw dropped. She could not believe Santana would use such language, in front of her superior nether less. Granted, she might be right but Emma was certainly not the type of person who would use profanity to describe a person, let alone a coworker.

"Well, I don't-"

"You have to mind Santana; she isn't the most eloquent speaker," Mercedes cut in, glaring at her friend. Santana, in turn, rolled her eyes and mumbled something inaudible under her breath. Mercedes sighed; it looked like she needed to have a little talk with the Latina. "As you were saying, Ms. Pillsbury?"

Emma cleared her throat and glanced at her note pad. "Right. William Shuester is the voice coach. You will be seeing him at least three times a week- just to make sure your voices are in tune. The last thing you want is to record with an unbalance voice. Mike Chang is the dance coach." Emma smiled. "He is the best dancer if I ever me, and I have seen some good dancers. Of course Sue does not think so because she has an odd belief that Asians can't dance. Then again, she thinks her Cheerios can legitimately sing jazz and soul, so her opinion should not matter much. Sugar Motta will be your etiquette coach. You will meet with her every day at noon."

The Limettes followed Emma as continued her tour and descriptions of some people working at McKinley. Mercedes was really the only one paying attention. Tina and Santana lagged behind; Santana could careless who was the photographer and the mailman. Tina was too tired from all the excitement to keep up with Emma's extremely fast pace.

"Are your folks still having a heart attack?"

Tina groaned.

She was not supposed to be in New York. Her parents did not approve of her dream to be a singer. They wanted her to push thought aside and strive for a more reasonable career like becoming a nurse or a teacher. Tina was currently not on her parents' good side especially after dropping out of college just to go on a cross country trip with her friends to achieve a dream that was downright near impossible.

She knew it was selfish of her. She knew he parents were worried sick about her. A part of her wanted to drop everything and go back home and enroll for the next semester at Ohio State but she could not let Mercedes and Santana down. They spent a lot of money and time to be in the position they were in. It would be foolish to halt everything just because of her parents.

Tina had called home as soon as she reached New York. Her parents, as expected, were infuriated. Her father refused to speak to her. Her mother went on a thirty minute lecture about how ungrateful Tina was- this was said in English- and then switched to Chinese to give her daughter a litany of threats. Tina felt bad; her mother preferred speaking English so she could get better at it. She only spoke in Chinese when she was furious.

Tina told her parents she loved them and everything would be fine before hanging up.

That was two days ago.

She had tried to reach them again this morning at the hotel, but they did not answer.

Tina bowed her head and sighed. "I don't think I can talk to them until we get a song on a Top Ten List; only then they can't stay that I am a failure."

Santana pulled Tina into a huge hug, something she did not do frequently, but her friend looked like she was going to bring out the waterworks. "Don't worry about it Tina; this is going to work out. I promise. We did not travel a hundred miles on a freezing bus, walk three miles in these uncomfortable-as-hell shoes, running through anti-war protests, while getting hit on by some hobos, just for our music careers to fail."

Mercedes, who was now only half paying attention to Emma, looked back and gave Tina a sympathetic smile.

"Kurt Hummel will be your stylist. You cannot miss him. He's very flamboyant. Don't worry, unlike some other stylists who think they are gods, he actually lets you choose your wardrobe. He's a sweetheart. You will like him very much." Emma stopped in front of a door. "This is the studio," she announced, pointing at the door sign. "This is the most important room in the whole building. It is where the magic happens. The producer is Noah Puckerman; he may be a bit- um, he has his ways with words." She gave Santana a noted look. "But he's good at what he does. If everything goes according to plan, you will be able to start recording by the middle of next week."

"Can we go in?" Santana asked.

Emma peered through the mini window and slightly frowned. Noah was still working with New Directions? He had been with them since them since eight this morning. She shook her head and said regrettably, "I wanted you to meet him, but it looks like he's still working with one of our bands. I do not understand why. He was supposed to be done at noon." She looked down at her watch. "That was four hours ago. Billy will most certainly be hearing about this."

Santana cursed.

"It's okay. I'm sure they are doing something important," Mercedes reasoned. "We can still him later?"

"I suppose," Emma replied, slightly glaring at the door. "Anyway, I am positive that Noah will be excited to meet you three. I have to warn you though; he can be a bit flirtatious and crass at times." Emma did not notice Mercedes and Tina smirking at Santana who only rolled her eyes. "But you are the only soul group in here. He can finally do something different."

"You don't have male soul groups?"

"We do, but only one; they're currently on tour in Europe. We had three last year, but that record company, which shall not be named, is taking all of the bands from us and other companies and shipping them to Detroit."

"What- shall not be named...?"

"Oh, she means Mo-"

Emma stopped. "The record company in Detroit cannot be named in the walls of McKinley Records. It brings ill feelings to everyone here."

"Damn, we should have gone to Detroit. Mo-" Santana whispered to Tina but stopped herself when Emma narrowed her eyes. "You know what, is making all of the groups famous. And it's a hell of a lot closer."

"You're the one who insisted that we come to New York," Tina hissed, becoming a bit annoyed. "You didn't mention anything about Detroit."

"Santana, stop complaining. Be grateful we even have this opportunity."

Santana rolled her eyes at Mercedes. "I am grateful. I was just saying."

Mercedes wished she could duct tape Santana's mouth and only take it off when they were in the studio.

Emma did not bother replying to Santana's statement. "You will be given a schedule tomorrow morning. You are to be here by seven am tomorrow so that you can meet up with our trainer, Shannon Beiste." She paused while checking out the Limettes physiques, namely Mercedes. "I think the workout session will benefit all three of you very much. In this business appearance is everything." Emma said before walking away.

Santana crossed her arms and glared at Emma's retreating form. "What does _that_ mean?"

She said it loud enough for Emma to hear.

Mercedes groaned. The duct tape idea was getting more appealing by the second.

"It's just a suggestion," Tina mumbled, sending Mercedes a wary glance. "She is not calling us fat."

"Santana, please don't start," Mercedes pleaded before smiling widely at Emma. She did not like what the vice president was implying either. She thought the Limettes looked fine. Sure she could benefit losing a few pounds, but Tina and Santana did not need to shed one more ounce. "We will be there at 6:59 am."

"That's what I like to hear," Emma replied, not before glowering at the very outspoken Limette. "Remember, you are only as good as you allow yourselves to be. If you want to be the best, you need to put in your best effort. I'm not going to lie to you and say that the music business is a walk in the park. Doing would only be deceitful and counterproductive. The benefits will only start coming in when you become successful, make a few hits and become a household name. Until then, you're not very important."

The Limettes did not say anything else as they followed the vice president to their next destination.

**This is a Samcedes story, but it's going to be a slow moving one. Sam and others will be introduced in the second chapter. The pairings will be relatively cannon- well, canon as of season one to three. My aim is to make this story as realistic as possible so if there is anything that does not relate to the decade, please by all means, tell me.**

**Since I am editing about five chapters insteading of writing them out of the blue (for the most part), I will be able to post a new chapter every day, or at the latest, every other day.**

**Please feel free to leave reviews, provide constructive criticism, etc. I would greatly appreciate it! Thanks in advance.**


	2. Chapter 2

**CHAPTER ONE**

"You can't exercise in a dress," Santana pointed out as the Limettes walked into McKinley Records lobby. They were early- too early in Santana and Tina's opinion. Mercedes insisted that they arrived at least fifteen minutes, to show that they were committed to their careers. Tina, although not a morning person, agreed but it was mostly because Mercedes literally had to drag her out of bed every single day for the past week.

Waking up early was something that Tina was convinced was never going to become easier.

Mercedes watched Tina rub her eyes and yawn as she put on her clothes and gave Santana a dirty look. "Thank you, for stating the obvious."

Mercedes did not have anything to wear for any type of physical activity. She only brought three dresses with her- a fancy one to impress McKinley's executives which she believed was an absolute success, a casual dress and a Sunday dress for church. She did not think about bringing anything else; once the money started rolling in from the music sales, she could buy more clothes. Though she had to admit, hand washing and drying the same dress every day, seven days straight, was getting a little tedious.

"I'm just saying," Santana replied. "John had been kicking our butts for the past week with that cardio crap and such, and you still didn't buy yourself a pair of pants."

John was the interim trainer for last week and thankfully, for only one week. Shannon Beiste, who was supposed to start on the girl group last week, had a family emergency and therefore couldn't show up to work until today. The interim trainer was nice enough, but it appeared that he believed that he was training soldiers who were about to be deployed to Vietnam instead of a singing group who only needed to tone their bodies.

"Do you have money to lend me for some pants, Ms. Lopez?" Mercedes retorted pulling her dress that was still a little wet, over her head. The heater in the Limettes' temporary apartment broke and it was thirty degrees outside- not good weather for air drying dresses.

McKinley Records was nice to provide the Limettes temporary housing. They were currently living in a hotel-turned-apartment building in Harlem. It was a nice place, they assumed; it was a large one bedroom with a medium-sized living room and kitchen. The Limettes would live here until they could afford to live somewhere, hopefully a much nicer place downtown. Emma had said that the company would pay for rent for the next three months, and after that the ladies were on their own. Hopefully by then, the Limettes would be able to bring in some revenue from sales and concerts.

Santana did not reply as she finished tying her sneakers.

"Why do we have to work out?" Tina whined, rubbing her eyes again. She was so unbelievably tired. She wasn't able to have to have a good night sleep thanks to her neighbors upstairs who seemed to be having the _time _of their lives at two in the morning. It also didn't help she forgot her daily cup of coffee; she needed caffeine to function throughout the day. "At this ungodly hour?"

Tina had been wearing her sleeping clothes for each session. She was glad she brought a shirt and a pair of shorts instead of her usual night gown. Santana wore her old high school gym clothes that she accidentally packed instead of a swim suit.

"Because we have to. Now stop that complaining before someone hears us."

"You need to stop being so paranoid."

Mercedes was going to retort but stopped when she saw the vice president walked out of the elevators. She gave Santana a look before facing Emma with a smile on her face. "Hello, Ms. Pillsbury," she called out, getting the vice president's attention.

Tina and Santana mumbled their hellos.

Emma Pillsbury was pleasantly surprised to see the Limettes arrive at McKinley Records at 6:48 am. She liked this. They were punctual. There had been many times when certain groups who she would not name would show fifteen minutes late because they thought they could due to their success.

She smiled widely as the girl group approached her. "Good morning," she said, trying not to sound as if all she wanted to do was curl up in her bed and stay in it for the rest of the night. She only had three hours of sleep thanks to a midnight visit from a certain manager who requested- more like demanded- that only certain samples should be given to the Cheerios not the Limettes. Why Sue thought that she could just show up at her apartment and demand something like that was beyond her. "I am so glad that you all have been arriving here early each day. Shows commitment."

The Limettes returned the greeting; they all looked just as tired as the vice president. But who could blame them? They were too excited about the music opportunity to have a proper night's rest. Today was going to be the first day they have a session with their voice coach.

Emma opened her folder and handed each woman a sheet of paper. "This is the schedule for the day. First you will meet up with Shannon Beiste, our trainer. After you refresh yourselves, you will meet up with the voice coach then Ms. Motta for the etiquette class. Following that, you will meet up with Mike so you can begin your dance training. If everything goes according to plan, I will meet with you at three to discuss the rest of today's schedule. Any questions?"

When the Limettes did not reply, Emma smiled and led them to the gym. "This is the gym. Ms. Beiste should arrive shortly. Have a nice time and please, by all means, break a sweat. We need to make those bodies tip-top shape."

With that she gave them one last smile before leaving.

Mercedes groaned; she did not sign up for this. She had heard from one of the janitors (of all people she had befriended in the past week) that Shannon was even tougher than John, if that was possible.

At the other side of the hallway, Sue Sylvester, the manager of the amazing and extremely successful Cheerios, took an angry bite of her toast before throwing the rest in the garbage can. She narrowed her eyes and marched towards the Limettes as soon as Emma left- she would deal with the vice president later. She didn't want to see them but she had to make her presence known and give them a firm warning about who _really_ ran things in this company. When she reached them, the Limettes turned to look at her- well up at her. This was one of the benefits of being taller than some men.

Because Sue was brought up to be a respectable woman even in the presence of potential rivals, she decided to introduce herself. This was an honor. "My name is Sue Sylvester; that's short for your worst nightmare if you dare cross my path. I am the manager of the Cheerios, though I should really be the vice president for this record company but that's for another story."

"Hello," Mercedes spoke up because it didn't seem that Santana or Tina wanted to take that offer. "My name is Mercedes Jones. This is Santana and Tina. We are the Limettes. It's a pleasure to meet you."

Sue was taken aback. She definitely should not be a pleasure to meet. She wanted to intimidate the Limettes. "Wow, you can speak proper English? I thought your people were incapable of doing such things."

Steam was coming out of Mercedes' ears. Tina, always the pacifist, rubbed Mercedes' hand to calm her down. She frowned at Sue. "Was that necessary?"

"I was only expressing my shock." Sue looked down at Tina, who was significantly shorter than her. "Hello, you must be Slanted Eyes."

"Excuse me?"

"You are excused, dear." Sue smirked and narrowed her eyes. "Billy wasn't kidding about the diversity. All you need is an Arab and an Indian and your little multicultural group will be complete."

"Do you mean a person from India or a Native American?"

Tina elbowed Mercedes. It took a lot for Santana not to laugh.

"You need to watch your mouth, young lady. I don't have time or patience for people who speak to their superiors with an attitude."

Mercedes opened her mouth bur closed it when she noticed Sue was not paying attention. Instead she cocked her head to the gym door that the Limettes could use as an escape route.

"Sue, don't you have anything else to do than taunt people?"

Sue looked over the Limettes- they were all shorter than her- to see the exercise instructor approaching the group. She rolled her eyes. Why did someone always have to show up when she was in intimidation mode? She needed to force the Limettes out of the music business by using fear tactics.

"Hello, She-Hulk. I see the testosterone therapy is going wonderfully. You're looking more and more like a man each day."

"Thank you, and the devil look is looking splendid on you."

Santana was glaring at Sue the entire time. If this was what Sue acted like, she couldn't wait to meet the Cheerios.

"I'll take that as a compliment." Sue scowled; she gave the Limettes one last glare before leaving. "This is not the last you've seen of Sue Sylvester. Leave this label while you can." She stopped to shake her head at Mercedes. "And you, I highly suggest you lay off the milkshakes before you explode."

Mercedes narrowed her eyes.

"Do not listen to Sue," Shannon said when she reached the Limettes. "Sue is known for trying to scare off new people. Hello. My name is Shannon Beiste. I'm your exercise coach; you ladies must be the Limettes."

The Limettes faced Shannon. Well, she looked more... masculine than most women. Maybe the gossip had some credit- it was rumored that Shannon Beiste was secretly an ex-Olympian from East Germany who loaded up on steroids. But she did seem nice- at least a lot nicer than Sue.

"Hello," the girl group said in unison.

Shannon glanced at Mercedes. "There aren't many physical activities you can do in a dress. Do you have any other clothes?"

Mercedes shrugged. "There's only so many things I can pack in a suitcase. This is the closest thing to gym clothes I have."

Santana shook her head in shame.

"We will figure something out," Shannon said, before leading the Limettes inside the gym. "Now, Billy insisted that I keep you guys in shape and so help me God that's what I'm going to do. Although this is your first session with me, I'm not going to be easier on you."

The Limettes glanced at each other as the slowly walked inside the gym. What did they get themselves into?

* * *

At ten, Emma decided that since today would be the first day the Limettes see their vocal coach, there was a big chance that they did not know remember where they need to practice their vocals. Therefore, she took it upon herself to show it to them personally. And no, it had nothing to do with the fact that she did not see the voice instructor in three days- no, not at all.

She waited outside of the ladies' changing rooms. She saw the Limettes walking- more like crawling- out of the gym, drenched with sweat. She told Shannon to take it easy since this was their first session- it looked like she did not listen.

Inside the changing room, the Limettes slowly but surely refreshed themselves and changed their clothes.

"This is why I hate exercising," Santana grumbled, walking out of the showers. "I can't feel my legs."

"How do you think I feel?" Mercedes shot back, trying to put her arm through the dress sleeves without feeling any soreness- it wasn't working too well. "I don't think I'll be able to move out my bed tomorrow."

"Unfortunately, that's not an option," Tina said, combing out her hair. She was going to reach for the hairspray but Santana got a hold on the can first. "We have to see Shannon five times a week. At seven in the morning; that's even earlier than before."

Mercedes groaned. Of course they had to see Shannon all those days, she thought after finally being able to put both arms through the sleeves. There should be no reason why she was this sore; she had been working out nonstop all last week.

"This is going to suck," Santana grumbled as she sprayed hairspray all over her hair. Mercedes had to snatch the can before her friend used it all up. She needed some too and Tina needed the most of them all.

"Welcome to the real world," Mercedes said. She would worry about exercising tomorrow morning. Even with the workout session from Hell, Mercedes was in good spirits. She could not wait to get into the studio and do what she was destined to do- sing. "Also, do you two have any suggestions about our new name? I hope the Limettes don't stick."

"I strongly agree. It sucks. I feel disgusted just thinking about it."

"Stop exaggerating."

"Oh, we can be like Martha and the Vandellas," Tina suggested. "We can be Mercedes and the Limas."

"You are no longer a part of the naming committee," Santana snapped, shaking her head. "The Limas? Really? Why do you think that's okay?"

Tina pouted.

"No reason to be mean about it."

"We should just keep Limettes," Mercedes continued before Santana could protest. "Just for the time being. And anyway, every girl group and their mama's name end with 'ettes,' so Limettes can't sound too bad."

"She has a point," Tina said, putting on her dress. They all were wearing different dresses. Santana had requested, no demanded, that the Limettes would only dress alike during their performances because she was tired of looking like other people. Mercedes and Tina agreed just to keep the Latina's mouth shut. "And hurry up ladies; we need to meet Mr. Shuester in ten minutes. We can't be late for our first session."

"I don't see why we need to see a voice coach," Santana said. "We already know how to sing and we're damn good at it. Why do you think we even got a record deal? I think these vocal classes are waste of time, just like those etiquette classes."

"Santana, can I just have one hour without you questioning everything? Be grateful for once," Mercedes chided, becoming more irritated of her band mate's complaining by the minute. Mercedes did not think Santana was ungrateful. She was Santana. This was how Santana operated; she was loud, rash and pretty much did not care who she was talking to- she was going to voice her opinion.

"Whatever."

Santana flipped her hair back and marched out of the changing room. Tina and Mercedes gave each other a look, sighed and followed the Latina out of the room.

"I do not want to think I am following you," Emma said, scaring the Limettes as soon as they walked outside the changing room. She appeared more excited than she should be. She beamed and motioned for the Limettes to come to her. "You may not remember the location of the vocals room, so I will show it to you today, as well as other important place I have failed to show you."

"Thank you…" Mercedes said, trailing off so she could glare at Santana who had her arms crossed. Santana, in returned, raised one eyebrow and pressed her lips together into a scowl.

"Okay, let's go," Emma began walking with the girl group following her lead. "You should be honored to have this opportunity. William is one of the best voice coaches on the east coast, if not, the whole country. He has been excited to meet you since Billy told him you were signed to the label."

Mercedes smiled at her band mates. This voice teacher must be nothing short of amazing if Emma, nice and calm Emma, was acting like a kid in a candy store. She almost ran into Emma when the vice president stopped out of nowhere. She mumbled a sorry as she stepped back. Emma smiled. "Sorry about that. I should have warned you. William is scheduled to meet with another group before he meets with you. Do not worry; you do not have to wait long. William is normally very punctual with time."

Behind her, the voice instructor walked out of what was assumed to be his room with four men- three brunets and one blond. None of them noticed the ladies as they appeared to be engaging in a serious conversation. The Limettes tried to overhear what he was saying, but Emma, was too busy talking to them.

"Just in case you're wondering, that's the band New Directions," Emma pointed out, waving at Will who was now talking with only one of the band members. He smiled and waved back. Emma tried to hide her blush. She might or might not have crush on the voice coach. "They are McKinley's biggest act despite what Sue claims. Even with the British Invasion plaguing American bands everywhere, they are still doing quite well. Four number ones already."

"Does this mean that Sue may be delusional?" Mercedes asked, hoping that was case. Maybe that could explain why she was so rude to her and her friends. Mercedes had dealt with rude people all her life; she had to deal with people who hated her simply because she was a few (or at times a lot) shades darker with him. She had to deal with people who wouldn't stop talking about her weight and how she would never be a star. But she had never dealt with any person ruder than Sue Sylvester; and the manager didn't even have an excuse to hate her and the Limettes. She just met them.

Emma shrugged; she was in no mood to think about that thorn on her side. "Unfortunately, Sue refused to be tested for any mental illnesses. But I only think she thinks the world revolves her and the Cheerios. Do not be offended if she does not like you. She does not like many people."

Santana laughed for a reason she didn't even know.

"I do not want to sound unappreciative, but do we really need to go to work out-boot camp almost every morning?" Tina asked, hoping that Emma would not be upset with her question.

Emma looked back at Tina and responded with, "I know Ms. Beiste may be a bit intense but you have to understand the importance of appearance."

"I know it's important-"

"Having a television is becoming more common in households. More and more people are watching television for not only news, but for entertainment. They look at how you look, act, dress and talk. They will not know you personally, but they will form judgments based on what they see. Look at the 1960 election. Why do you think Nixon lost? It was because Kennedy was more handsome and had charisma. That's what people want: the looks, the talent and the charisma."

"We're doing this to look good," Mercedes added. "For better or for worse."

Emma nodded. "Yes, it is very important to look and act appropriately for the public, hence the etiquette classes as an addition to your grooming process." She planned to continue her speech about appearance until she noticed Will approaching her as the New Directions rushed to the bathroom; she straightened out her posture and said quickly. "I am sure Kurt will go into more depth when you see him later. Hello, Mr. Shuester. How has your morning been?"

The Limettes mimicked Emma's posture. Santana stopped after three seconds; she was too sore to stand up straight. And anyway, it wasn't like that man was anything interesting, not to her at least.

"Emma, really? Call me Will."

The Limettes glanced at each other. Will Shuester looked exactly like their "Glee Club" moderator; the one who had an unnatural obsession with vests and thought Mercedes had the most amazing voice in the world. Santana narrowed her eyes; she was pretty Mr. Shue did not have a twin brother.

Emma deeply blushed then cleared her throat. Although it might be a bit obvious, she maintained that she still loved her husband- even though she refused to be intimate with him but this was not the time to worry about that. "I would like to introduce to you McKinley's new act: the Limettes."

Will gave the Limettes a wide smile. "Hello. I have heard many things about you."

"I hope they're all good things." Mercedes said.

"Of course. You wouldn't be here if they weren't."

"I don't want to sound…" Santana began then trailed off with a very suspicious look on her face. "But do you happen to have a brother or a cousin that lives in Lima, Ohio? Because you look just like my old Glee teacher."

Mercedes groaned. She could not believe Santana just asked that, even though she was wondering the same thing.

Will's face changed from confusion to embarrassment. He let out a small chuckle and rubbed the back of his head. "Wow, this is really a small world. My older brother teaches Spanish in the high school in Lima."

Emma all of a sudden lost complete interest in the Limettes and asked Will if she could talk to him, in private. After he nodded and gave the girl group an apologetic look, Will allowed Emma to drag him about thirty feet from them. The Limettes were confused. Did Emma and Will expect them to stay here until they were finished talking?

Santana gave Mercedes and Tina an annoyed look; she didn't have time for this.

Out of nowhere, Tina elbowed Mercedes to get her attention and craned her neck forward. Mercedes realized what- or who- Tina was pointing to. Why was she pointing out to her a guy coming out of the bathroom? That was something Santana would do when she was bored.

"What about him?"

"Nothing," Tina quickly replied, sending Santana who was very interested in the man walking towards the Limettes.

The Limettes watched as the guy from New Directions- Santana needed to get a name before she went crazy- stop to talk to Will about something before he continued to walk down the hall. Tina could feel an awkward moment coming. Mercedes just wished Emma and Will could finish their conversation and Santana cursed when she realized that she forgot to put on her "man-catcher" red lipstick.

"We should say hi to him," Santana suggested as she straightened the bottom of her dress. She couldn't believe she not only forgot her lip stick but also she compact mirror. She could look like she had just rolled out of bed and not even notice. "We need to make our presence known in these parts. Make connections, you know."

"Why, so you can scare the poor man to death?"

"Now why would I do such a thing?"

Tina scoffed. "Because you're Santana and that's what you do."

Santana, offended, decided to pick a fight with Tina. Mercedes, not in the mood to watch her band members embarrass themselves with Will and Emma being less than fifty feet away, cursed under her breath and held Santana back as she attempted to swing some punches. Tina took a step back and sent Santana a dirty look.

"Good morning, ladies."

Mercedes instantly let Santana go, ignoring the string of curses in Spanish. Santana, breaking her fall, stood up tall and smooth out her skirt as if she was not about to give Tina a black eye.

Tina continued glaring at Santana.

Santana, being Santana, was not discreet about anything. She raised an eyebrow and looked at the blond up and down with a smirk of approval. She was more into Latinos, but this person caught her attention. She replied in a sultry tone. "And good morning to you too..."

Tina and Mercedes shook their heads.

The man only smiled in return.

Santana shook the man's hand, not caring if Sugar had mentioned quite a few times that it was not ladylike to grab someone's hand and shake it. She was forward; that was normal behavior for her. "Hello, my name is Santana Lopez." She pointed at Tina. "This is Tina Cohen-Chang; you may never hear her speak because she's a bit shy around members of the opposite sex." She continued before Tina could protest- more like yell at her, "And Ms. I Don't Like to Make Eye Contact, over there is the one and only Mercedes Jones. We are the Limettes."

If looks could kill, Mercedes would be arrested and convicted for second degree murder.

Mercedes looked at the blond man as he extended his hand to her. She raised an eyebrow; she should shake it. Yes, she should. She hesitated- she really didn't know why- but decided that since she was a polite person, she shouldn't leave a person hanging like that. She shook his hand, quite hard. "Hello, it is very nice to meet you, sir. I am Mercedes Jones. And contrary to what Santana proclaimed, I do know how to make eye contact with people. That's why I'm the leader singer." She looked straight in his eyes to make a point. "See?"

Santana scowled.

"Well, it seems that your friend does not know you as well as she thinks."

He flashed Mercedes a wide grin.

She faced the other way.

Tina and Santana exchanged confused looks.

Mercedes thanked the lord for her dark skin because she was pretty sure she was blushing. Though she didn't know why exactly; she wasn't into white boys with Southern accents.

"Enough about us," Santana said, feeling a bit jealous that the guitar player's focus was Mercedes and only Mercedes- who, by the way, look like she wanted him to disappear. "Who are you?"

"I'm sorry for not introducing myself. My name is Sam Evans. I'm a part of New Directions," He said, with a crooked grin, not directed at Santana- much to her chagrin. He lifted his guitar. "As you can see, I play guitar. When did you-?"

Mercedes, not knowing why she was feeling irritated all of a sudden, cut him off and replied as if she already knew what he planned to ask, "We just arrived in New York last week," Mercedes replied, wondering why he wasn't leaving right now to his people and band mates and why Santana was trying _so_ hard to get his attention. "We're signed here... also." Mercedes looked passed Sam to check if Will and Emma stopped talking- no such luck. She sighed dejectedly. "We're waiting for Mr. Shuester and Ms. Pillsbury to finish their conversation."

Sam glanced back then gave Mercedes an apologetic look. "Yeah, that may take a while. Pillsbury is a chatterbox around people she likes. Are you ladies waiting for Mr. Shue?"

Tina instantly had a flashback from the Mr. Shue from her high school; this was so weird.

Santana, feeling left out from the conversation, squeezed in between Tina and Mercedes. "Yes," she replied in a soft voice earning a groan from Mercedes and Tina. She didn't pay attention; she had a man to impress. "We are. This will be our first time meeting with a voice coach. We are all excited for the voice lessons. I am positive it will make us better singers."

Mercedes scoffed. Santana was so full of-

Tina watched from the sidelines as Santana literally threw herself at the poor man. She knew Santana was crazy- that was a given- she didn't know she would do something like _this_. She wanted to send Mercedes a signal to stop Santana from scaring other people away, but she was too busy avoiding eye contact with the blond who wouldn't stop grinning even at her if his life depended on it.

Tina slightly frowned. Well, it looked like she was going to have to do this all by herself. She lightly pushes Santana to the side and smiled at Sam. "She doesn't always act like this..." she said, referencing Santana who was sending her murderous look.

Mercedes rolled her eyes. Why couldn't Sam, or whatever his name, go away, and why couldn't Will come over here and do his job? If she knew it was going to take this long, she would have taken a much needed mini-nap on one of the lounge couches down the hall.

"No problem," Sam replied, sending Santana a side look- she was definitely something else. "Where are y'all from?"

"Ohio," Tina replied.

"Lima, Ohio," Santana commented, very proudly. "You may not know where that is and that's okay. But I'm telling you, everyone will know where that is once we get our number one record."

"Well, I hope that'll come true. Of course as long as it doesn't compete with New Directions on the charts."

Santana continued talking. "Hey, you never know. Maybe we can beat your little band one day." She let out a dry laugh. "You know why? Because we have Ms. Mercedes Jones."

Okay, Santana had to admit; she was rambling, but she wanted Sam to at least appear like he was sort of interested in her. Not that she wanted to be with _him_- because she was Santana and Santana didn't do relationships unless it benefited her- some may call it selfish and perhaps deceitful. She called it being smart. And snagging a member of one of the most popular bands in the country would be smart.

"Shut your mouth."

Santana did no such thing. "Unfortunately, Mercedes doesn't like to talk about how amazing her voice is. She thinks it's too arrogant." She shrugged as Mercedes sent her a mean look, as if she was doing something unacceptable. What was wrong with her? All she was doing was spark a conversation. "That's a shame, isn't it?"

"Is that true, Ms. Jones?"

Mercedes blinked. Did this mean she had to speak up? About her voice? In front of a person who was from another musical act, who she had only met several minutes ago? She lightly gulped. Santana was going to get it when they were done with Will- whenever that would be.

"I don't like to brag, thank you," was Mercedes' simple reply.

Tina did not bother joining the conversation. It was much more entertaining being on the sidelines and listen to Santana try to flirt with someone who was not paying her much mind.

"Oh really?" Sam winked at Mercedes. "I can't wait to her this amazing voice you friend's raving about."

Tina choked on the gum she forgot she was chewing.

Mercedes pretended that Sam Evans, the man that some girls back home declared as their future husbands, did not just wink at her. Instead, she focused on Will and Emma- seriously, what could they be talking about now? They were messing up with the Limettes' schedule big time. She hoped she would still be able to go sightseeing- granted, it would be at night and many things would be close, but it would be better than nothing.

Santana grumbled. Great, this was just great. She decided to give up displaying Sam her charms. It appeared that he was much more interested in Mercedes, who was more interested in Will finishing his conversation.

Mercedes let out a sigh of relief. Thank the Lord, Will waved to Emma and started to walk in the Limette's direction. She quickly glanced at Sam- she promised herself that she would only look at him for no more than five seconds. She feared if she past that time she would do something that would regret and make Santana go crazy.

"I apologize for cutting this conversation short, Mr. Evans, but it looks like Will's decided that his talk with Emma is over. It was nice meeting you."

"Well," Sam said as he realized it was his time to go. "It was nice to meet you too, Ms. Mercedes Jones... Ms. Lopez and Ms. Cohen-Chang."

"I thought he was very nice," Santana commented as soon as Sam left.

Mercedes prayed that he didn't hear the Latina. "Nice job embarrassing us," she grumbled.

Tina nodded in agreement.

Santana rolled her eyes. She didn't see the big deal. All she did was talk to the guy. "I did not do such a thing. I just introduced him to you-"

"You told him I was shy around guys," Tina nearly screamed. "How was that not embarrassing?"

"Tina, yell at Santana later," Mercedes said as Emma and Will finished up their conversation. Will waved Emma goodbye and walked towards the Limettes. "Mr. Shuester is coming. Can we at least act like we've received some home training?"

Tina reduced her scowl to a slight frown. She was going to get Santana back for that; just you watch.

Santana leaned in and whispered in Mercedes' ear as the Limettes followed their voice coach inside his room. "Honey, it looks like you got yourself a new admirer. Trouty Mouth over there was flirting with you big time. For a sec, I thought he was going to bend down on one knee and ask you to marry him."

"Shut it, Santana."

"I'm just pointing out the obvious. Didn't you notice that he called you by your full name instead of using your last name like he did with Tina and me? That's a sign."

Mercedes scoffed. "According to whom?"

"I read it somewhere."

"You need to stop reading those teen magazines. You're too old for that junk."

"For your information, I find them very informative."

Tina tried to hide her laughter as Mercedes and Santana continued their argument into the room.

As soon as they went inside, Will went straight to business. "Hello, my name is William Shuester. But you can call me Will. I am the voice coach for this record company. My job is to make sure you're in tune and push your voices to the limit. Let's get started. First off, what genre do you prefer to sing?"

"Soul," Mercedes answered.

"Rhythm and Blues. None of that pop stuff." Santana grimaced just at the thought of sounding like those white girl groups.

"Only rhythm and blues?"

"Soul too," Tina added, having a bad feeling that William was not happy about their choice of music style though she didn't see the big deal. Music was music.

William let out a sigh. This was a problem. A big problem. Billy wanted singing groups that could bring in people from many groups to listen to their songs. As far as he was concerned, rhythm and blues only- or mostly- attracted the black people. "That's fine and all, but if you wanted to only sing soul then you should have went to Motown. We can mix rhythm and blues and pop. You need to be able to cross over to the white audience. They aren't that keen on your guys' type of music, at least not yet. They like rock and roll and such."

Santana scoffed. "Rock and roll is overrated."

"Not to the world it is."

"Hold up. I thought we were brought here to sing soul and rhythm and blues? Don't the Cheerios sing pop?" Mercedes asked, hoping that Billy didn't falsely lead her group along. "No offense to folks who sing pop."

"You are but-"

"So you're saying that you want us to sound white?"

"Santana..." Mercedes chided. "I apologize for Santana's mouth. She has a hard problem controlling it."

"It's not about sounding white. It's about being able to appeal to the white audience as well as other races. You have to produce mainstream music."

Mercedes did not care for Will's excuse. She did not travel all of these miles just to be told that she couldn't sing what she was good at singing. "The Supremes and the Temptations sing rhythm and blues and they're popular."

"I am not saying that you will be singing completely pop. No, that's what the Cheerios are for. We're just going to mix some genres up. "

Mercedes sighed. Santana rolled her eyes and Tina wished they could start singing now.

"Are you ladies ready?" Will asked, sitting on the piano. He took out a sheet of paper and put it on the piano stand while the Limettes surrounded him. "We will be sampling a song that was originally designated for the Cheerios but Sue, always wanting the best, did not think it would fit the group. It's called, 'Heat Wave' and if you sing it right, it can be a hit."

Mercedes nodded; this was the moment she was waiting for.

* * *

The day was successful, Emma Pillsbury concluded as she headed to the elevators. It seemed that the Limettes were quickly adjusting to their rigorous schedule and if everything went right, the girl group would be able to record with Noah Puckerman next week.

It was six o'clock in the evening, and most people at McKinley had left for home already. It was slower than usual at McKinley; this was expected, many of the company groups such as the Warblers, were on tour so it was going to be quiet for the next couple of weeks. Emma said goodbye to Kitty and Marley, the only female solo acts at McKinley, who were smoking next to the entrance to the employee's lounge, before pressing the down button on the elevator.

She was ready to go home and finally have dinner with her husband. This would be the first time in two weeks that Emma would make dinner, and eat with her husband as a couple. It was hard, she was a vice president of a record company and he was a doctor, working in the emergency room with no stable hours. There were times that she would see him for about an hour in the morning before she would have to leave for work and by the time she got home, he would either be gone or asleep.

He had complained numerous times that Emma's job was putting a strain on their marriage. Emma didn't want to believe it; comparing to her husband's, her hours weren't even that bad.

She sighed and was about to step into the elevators when she caught sight of the last person she wanted to see at this time coming towards her. Emma groaned and asked God what she did to deserve this. Did Sue have anything else to do than bother her? She was already the reason why she had to have three cups of coffee in order not to drop on the floor to hibernate.

She thought about leaving- it was a really good plan since Sue walking- no, marching- towards her with a murderous glint in her eyes. What could she possibly be mad about this early in the day, Emma did not know.

"Good morning, Sue," Emma said when Sue reached within two feet of her. She tried and partially succeeded in not trying to sound frustrated. "How can I be of assistance?"

"I'm glad you asked," Sue said. "I was just happened to walk by Will's room a couple of hours ago and heard the most horrifying thing since finding out that you beat me for the vice president position."

Emma did not like where this was heading.

"I thought I was losing my mind at first. But then I realized, I couldn't have been because Sue Sylvester did not hallucinate. Right there in Will's room, I heard a song that was supposed to be designated for my Cheerios being sung by that new godforsaken girl group. Now Emma, do you have an explanation for that?"

"You didn't want the song," Emma responded, puzzled because that wasn't Sue's song anymore. "You said, and I quote, 'That song is stupid and I rather be in a Soviet prison in Siberia than have my Cheerios sing that.' William thought that the new girl group should try it- something about not wanting to put a good song into waste."

"I know what I said," Sue snapped. She might have forgotten that she refused the Cheerios to sample the song. "Just because I did not to use the song does not mean you should give it to another act. A new act that certainly does not possess more talent than my girls."

"It does not work that way, Sue."

Sue growled.

There wasn't a rational reason why Sue could not stand Emma for the life of her.

Emma, though it pained for her to admit it, was a sweet woman. She had compassion. She cared about a crap load of things. She gave everyone a second and even a third chance- which was all fine and good if she wanted to be a doctor or a mother but this was the music business, not a god damn charity.

Maybe Sue was still mad at Billy for picking a neurotic woman who looked like an alien with a mental problem over her.

"Really? Because I'm pretty sure it does." Sue took a step forward in an attempt to instill fear into the vice president. Much to her chagrin, Emma just gave her a bored look. "I don't know what kind of operation and/or conspiracy you and Will are running, but the Cheerios are and will always be McKinley's prized musical act. And no one, especially that girl group full of people who shouldn't be in this country in the first place, is going to change that."

"They are called the Limettes, Sue."

"I don't care what they're called; I want them dropped from this label!"

Emma sighed. She was expecting this reaction from Sue, who for some reason, believed that the Cheerios were the only group signed to McKinley Records. "Sue, I cannot drop a group from the label just because _you_ do not like them. I thought you of all people would know that. Anyway, they were just signed last week. You only met them in person today. What could have they possibly done to anger you?"

"They existed."Sue did not feel that she needed to answer Emma's question. Instead, she resorted to what she did best- threaten her enemies. "Listen to me, Emma, and listen to me clearly. If I find out that Billy is investing more time and money on that 'minority' girl group than my Cheerios, there are going to be some serious repercussions. I'm talking about hardcore CIA action. I do have connections, you know. Do you understand me?"

Emma, being used to Sue's antics, was not a bit intimidated by Sue's threat. Instead, she fought back the urge to roll her eyes and said, in an unusually firm voice, "If you have an issue with the Limettes then you should address it to Billy. Now if you don't mind, I have to meet up with the _minority_ girl group who may or may not derail your precious Cheerios' reputation."

And with that, she pushed past Sue and rushed to the elevators.

Sue was going to throw the vice president an insult- her specialty- but for the first time, in a very long time, she could not think of any. Now this was a monumental event in the life of Sue Sylvester- she always had at least ten insults lined up when talking to someone.

Sue scrunched up her face. Who was this woman and what the hell did she do with the wimpy Emma she has been dealing with for the past four years? She narrowed her eyes as she watched Emma enter the elevator. She must investigate this.


	3. Chapter 3

**CHAPTER TWO**

Brittney Pierce did not care about what people thought about her as much as her other two band mates, Quinn and Rachel. She did not care that her band mates often called her a "ditz" and that Sue suggested too many times that she needed to repeat the first grade. So what if she believed in elves and Santa Claus? Didn't everyone? And yes, she thought babies came from storks. But the last time she checked, parents told their kids that all the time and therefore, everyone must have thought the same at some point.

Contrary to what many people thought, Brittney did not the "dumb blonde" stereotype that was assigned to her. She was a smart woman. If she wasn't so hell-bent on being a part of a singing group, she would have went to college and study something challenging like medicine. And she was amazing dancer; Mike Chang said so himself. She was the best dancer in the record company. She cared about everyone- though she had to admit that being this way often got her into trouble.

She was also not one to get jealous. An amazing feat since it was quite obvious that Sue preferred Quinn over her and her other band mate, Rachel. Brittany didn't understand why. Everyone knew that Rachel was the _real_ lead singer. She did not speak out or back stab when she found out that Sue was giving Quinn all the promotions. Rachel, on the other hand and perhaps understandably so, was not so kind. Brittany didn't mind. she believed that everything happened for a reason and everything would work out in the end.

She liked to go with the flow. She followed the beat to her own drum and did what she like and tune out other things she didn't want to hear. This was why she completely ignored Sue when she said- no, yelled- that the Cheerios were not allowed to interact with the Limettes.

"I think it's great that McKinley has decided to sign another girl group," Brittany said before eating her fries. She was supposed to be on this super strict no salt, no sugar and no fat diet imposed by Sue, but she could care less at this moment. She was hungry.

She was sitting with the Limettes in a diner down the street from McKinley. It was the best diner in the area; its burgers and malt shakes were simply to die for. Brittany sat at one of the tables at the edge of the room; she always picked this area so that many people wouldn't notice her. She wore normal clothes so she wouldn't get recognized- thanks to the Kurt's rather loud fashion, the Cheerios were always wearing some wild attire. "There are only so many boy bands I can deal with."

Mercedes took a long sip of her soda malt. She ignored the lingering looks and whispers from other customers who obviously never seen so much diversity sitting at one table. "How many boy bands are there? I thought there was only one."

Brittany shook her head. "Oh no, there are three. All of them except New Directions are on tour on the west coast. New Directions will tour next month."

"How come the Cheerios are still here?" Tina asked. She thought that multiple groups always toured together. At least, that was what Emma told her. "Did you guys tour already?"

"Yeah, we just came back from England. You would think Sue would give us a few days off thanks to _that_ fiasco, but no..." Brittany frowned. She didn't want to think about England; not now. "The Cheerios and New Directions, who are the top groups in the company, don't tour together. Actually, the Cheerios don't tour with anyone. Sue doesn't want other groups to outshine us on the stage. Which is so stupid if you ask me; tons of acts travel together all the time."

"You don't like traveling with only the Cheerios?"

Brittany nervously chuckled. The way Tina phrased it made it seemed that Brittany didn't like her group. "I do." She paused. "But England was so boring. All we did was practice, practice and practice." Brittany paused again, realizing that she might sound like a spoiled brat. "Which came with the job, but that was the first time I went out the country. I wanted to go sightseeing..." she trailed off. "Anyway, I prefer traveling with other groups. You'll get tired of seeing the some few people over and over."

Mercedes nodded with understanding.

Tina did the same then yawned while stretching her limbs. It was not lady-like of her, she knew. Her mother would have a heart attack if she saw what her daughter was doing. She couldn't help it; her body was crashing and all she wanted to do was sleep.

This second week at McKinley had been nothing short of hectic. Emma had the Limettes on a busy, tight schedule from seven in the morning to nine at night. The vice-president gave them the weekend off because Tina looked like she was about to pass out- no one knew if she was faking or not. The Limettes took their time off as an opportunity to be tourists in the big city.

When Brittany suggested she treated them to lunch, the Limettes would be fools to miss to say no.

Tina continued stretching out her arms, grimacing at her sore muscles. There should be no reason why Shannon Beiste thought she was training some world-class sports team. "Shannon kicked our behinds this morning. It was as if she was mad at us or something."

"Ugh," Mercedes grumbled. "I don't even want to think about that workout. I'm shocked I can still walk."

"Oh, I know what you mean. She can be a bit... intense. But Shannon is such a sweetheart. She is so kind when she's not training people," Brittany commented, sliding the fries to Santana who gave her the most cautious look she could muster. "I see you eying them. Take them all. I shouldn't be eating deep- fried potatoes in the first place." She continued before Santana could think of anything to say, "Some people are scared of her because she can be very manly, but you guys should really talk to her one day. Her life story is amazing."

"Is it true that she used to be on the East German Olympic team?"

Brittany actually laughed at Tina's question. It was a stupid rumor, really; she wasn't even born there. "She's not even German. At least, I don't think. Where did you hear that from?"

"Sue," Santana said, "And Sugar. They're also convinced that Shannon is a communist."

"Sue thinks everyone who doesn't look 'American' is a communist," Tina muttered under her breath, remembering how Sue had thought that Tina was a part of Vietcong and only joined the Limettes to spy on pro-democracy Americans. Tina didn't know what was worse, the fact that Sue thought that she was a communist, or that she was a Vietnamese, when she clearly was from Chinese descent.

Then again, she had met plenty of people who could not tell the difference between Asian nationalities, so she shouldn't be _that_ surprised.

"Shannon told me she is from French descent and..." Mercedes trailed off as she looked down at her burger; she was so hungry. All she had was a piece of eggs- for breakfast- and a small salad. She supposed she had to listen to Emma about appearances.

Brittany looked up from her meal. "Mercedes, come on, a burger isn't going to kill you. Trust me, I would know." She took a bite of her burger. "Sue has us on this super strict diet, but once a week I treat myself." She flashed the Limettes a smile. "I love meat- uh, as in meat that you eat."

Mercedes and Tina laughed.

Santana continued eating her fries, not realizing a faint brush of pink on her cheeks.

"Enjoy your food while you can," Brittany insisted. "I assure you- now, I'm telling you from experience- once you get big, everyone is going to be in your face. Talking about how you look and how you dress. How much weight you lost and gained. And then they're going to start asking about what diet you used." She let out a deep sigh. "I've been asked that a few times. They don't believe that dancing six hours a day will keep the pounds off."

Mercedes brought a hand to her mouth. "_Six hours_?"

Brittany shrugged. "What can I say? I love to dance. Mike is such an amazing teacher. I don't understand why he doesn't open his own academy. Billy doesn't appreciate him as much as he should…"

"Who are you talking-?" Santana gasped then gave Tina a wide smirk. "Oh! You mean the dance instructor Tina has a crush on."

Mercedes roughly elbowed Santana.

"I do not have a crush on him," Tina shot back, wishing that Santana, for once, would shut up for ten minutes. She was convinced that the Latina was secretly after her. And for record, she did not have a crush on their dance instructor. All she said was that he was cute. And sweet and could dance-

Tina bowed her head, hiding her blush.

Damn, Santana might be right.

"There is nothing wrong with that," Brittany reassured, smiling. "Everyone has a crush. I used to have the biggest crush on James Dean. He was so dreamy..." Her expression turned solemn. "I was so sad when he died from that terrible accident. I cried for two nights straight."

"I'm sorry…"

"It's okay. I'm sure Emma is going to make you all go on some diet, so enjoy your food now. You're going to miss it when you only live on whole grains, fruits and vegetables."

"Note taken."

"I cannot believe this…"

"Are you serious?"

"Welcome to the music business," Brittany said sadly. A part of her wished the Limettes would choose a different career. The music business was brutal; even more brutal than Hollywood, in her opinion. She had seen bad things happen to good people in order to gain fame. "And trust me, that's the good part. Hey, as long as you're smart, you'll be fine."

"Gee, thanks," Santana grumbled.

"Aw, it's not all that bad- as long as the fame doesn't get your head. That's when things start falling apart." Brittany slightly frowned at the Limette's horrified expression. She didn't intend to scare the girl group- she was only telling the truth. "Oh, and make sure you know your self-worth. There are some things that aren't worth doing for fame. Some of these singers- they sell their souls to make it big. They'll do anything to have a good song. You name it, someone has done it."

Tina gulped and asked, "Do you know anyone? Who sold their souls?"

"We all did. That's the price of fame. But there are some who sell and never get them back. It's sad you know." She paused. "Oh my, I completely forgot to apologize for Sue's behavior. I know this may sound like a lie, but she's not all that bad. But I don't know what's up with her lately- you would think that she would be in a better mood after we had yet another number one record."

"That's okay," Mercedes said, finishing her fries. They were so good. She could not believe she even thought, for a moment, that she was never going to eat them again. "She probably had a bad day."

Santana snorted.

"I don't want to sound rude." Tina shuddered at the memory of Sue Sylvester. "But what's her problem? It wasn't like we were mean to her. Even Santana didn't say anything offensive. She called me 'Slanted Eyes.'"

"Sue has nicknames for everyone. She refers to Kurt as 'Porcelain.'" Brittany, knowing her manager's behavior all too well, gave Tina a sympathetic look. "That's how she is. I wouldn't be surprised if I were you. Sue has an issue with anyone who isn't paled-skinned or Protestant. If you haven't noticed, she's not very fond of Rachel Berry."

"Why? She's white."

"No. She's Jewish, and Sue thinks all Jews are good for is lying and taking everyone's money."

"Then why is she still a part of the Cheerios?"

"Because Billy refuses to fire her. That girl knows how to put on a show." Brittany shrugged. "In this business, that's really all that matters in the end. And about Sue- she wants to make the Cheerio's lives picture perfect. She wants Quinn to be a role model for little girls across the country. She wants Rachel to be the perfect singer, which isn't going well, I'm telling you. Sue dictates our lives; she's even making us date certain people to increase our star power."

"You're kidding."

"Oh gosh, I wish," Brittany replied, crossing her arms. "She wants Quinn to be with Finn; he's the lead singer of New Directions and me with Sam, who is also-"

"A part of New Directions," Mercedes finished off, frowning a bit though she had no idea why. "We met him."

Brittany's face lit up. "He's great, isn't he? Unfortunately for Sue, he's not my type and I'm pretty sure I'm not his either. We're only good friends. He's like a brother to me, but Sue wants to believe otherwise."

"Why would she do that?" Tina asked.

"Publicity," Brittney rolled her eyes. "I guess it would give us more sales, which in all honesty, doesn't make any sense. We already have plenty of number one hits. There is nothing worse than being forced to date someone you don't like, at least in _that_ way."

"That sucks," Tina commented.

"Tell me more about Sam." Santana requested, smirking at Mercedes who in returned sent her the harshest glare she could muster. Santana just shrugged. All she wanted was some information. Mercedes did not have to worry; Santana was not going to take the blond man away from her. Actually, she planned to do just the opposite. "Is he really as nice as he seems?"

Brittany laughed at Santana's seriousness. "Are you investigating him or something?" she asked, causing Santana to blush in embarrassment. "I'm just kidding, you know, and yes, he is a wonderful person. Not my type, but wonderful. You guys should also talk to him sometime too."

The waiter came over to the table and asked if the women wanted anything else. Brittany was the only one who ordered anything- an order of onion rings. She felt bad about her decision when the waiter left. She was supposed to be on a diet, damn it. Yes, she was splurging a bit- a lot- but she must have gained like, five pounds since she came to the diner.

Brittany thought about excusing herself to the bathroom to get rid of her stomach contents- it wouldn't be her first time- but she didn't want to get caught in a public bathroom. What if there were photographers lurking around the diner? What if they took pictures? Think about what the magazines would say. What Sue would say? Sue would be very upset, that was for sure.

But then secretly praise her for being conscious about her weight and figure.

This wouldn't be the first time.

"Oh did you hear about what happened to Figgins?"

"Who?" The trio asked in unison.

Brittany blinked. How could they not know who Figgins was? Everyone knew who Figgins was. "You know, Figgins. Sue's ex-husband."

"Someone married her?" Santana gagged with disgust." Why would anyone want to do through that?"

"It's a long story," Brittany quickly replied, not wanting to retell that story. Someone needed to make a movie about Figgins and Sue's marriage- though Hollywood would most likely have an issue with the interracial thing. "Anyway, Figgins used to be the vice president of McKinley Records." She paused, thinking of a nice way to explain this. "Long story short- Sue only married him to become the Cheerios' manager. I felt sorry for the guy; he was so nice, but he was not for Sue. Not the point- apparently, I found out this morning that he is in the hospital."

"For what?"

"Attempted drug overdose," Brittany rubbed her forehead. "The death of choice for many famous people. I couldn't believe it. But don't tell anyone; it hasn't been leaked into the press yet."

Mercedes gulped. "But how did you-?"

"I have my ways," Brittany proudly replied.

Brittany liked to be known as the local gossip- yes, she was perfectly aware that this was a title that one shouldn't want. If there was one thing she was good at besides dancing, it was eavesdropping. Most of the time it wasn't intentional; she just had great hearing. Most people at McKinley did not mind saying anything scandalous in front of the blonde. Because she was Brittany, the believed she probably wasn't even paying attention. She wasn't the type of person who would blackmail anyone and she was not nearly as ambitious as her other band mates. Little did they know, this definitely was not the case.

Santana leaned over the table and narrowed her eyes. She was curious about how much did Brittany know about McKinley Records. "Is there anything else about people over at McKinley we should know about?"

Brittany stopped chewing then swallowed her food in one gulp; she had to work on her eating etiquette. "You met Kurt, right? Well, he's a homosexual. Emma, as well as most of the administrators, insists that he should get institutionalized since it is a mental disorder, but Kurt keeps on refusing," Brittany whispered, causing the Limettes to choke on their colas. "I know and he's not even trying to hide it. And then there's Puck, you know, the producer. He's a playboy. He can't stay with a woman for a week to save his life. He's a frequent customer at the Playboy Club. He also prefers older women for some reason. Oh, and he's been in jail a few times.,,"

Santana was paying the most attention out of the Limettes; whether it was because she was genuinely interested in whatever the Cheerio was saying or because she could not keep her eyes on anything else but the blonde's face, she would never say. She leaned on her elbows, resting her chin on clenched fists and continued to listen to how Brittany found out what Puck was having an affair with Quinn with complete wonder.

Tina, who had been watching the Latina's move ever since they got there, believed that there was something seriously wrong with Santana. Santana was never the one to be completely engrossed in one's conversation, not matter who it was or how important.

Brittany changed to a happier topic. All of this drama-related talk was boring her. "Are you guys doing a song now? I heard you guys singing in Will's office. You sound amazing, with a capital A."

Santana smirked. "We know."

"We're going to start recording tomorrow," Mercedes excitedly replied, giving her band mates a wide smile. "We're going to be singing 'Then He Kissed Me.'"

Brittany's jaw dropped a bit. Wasn't that-? Yes, it was. Oh man, Sue was going to flip tables when she found this out. "Hey, the Cheerios tried that song out but Sue, being Sue, thought it wasn't a good fit for us. And I liked that song too," she paused then smiled. "Well, I hope you do that song some justice."

"We are going to slay that song," Santana reassured with a smirk and lifted her pointer finger. "Number one, baby, number one."

Brittany beamed. "I cannot wait for that day to come because it will nice to have another girl group get number ones besides the Cheerios."

"I'm sure your manager won't feel that way..." Mercedes muttered.

Brittany waved Mercedes' comment off. "Oh don't worry about Sue. I have faith in you guys," she genuinely said. "I know we are supposed to be rivals and all, but I think that all talented people should succeed and you all are definitely talented. Don't let anyone tell you otherwise."

Mercedes couldn't understand how someone as sweet as Brittany could work with Sue Sylvester. "Thank you and I hope the Cheerio continues to succeed."

Brittany let out a sigh. "We have no choice. Sue would literally kill us if our song doesn't make at least the top ten. Oh! I have an idea!" She exclaimed, not in the mood to talk about her wacked-out manager. "We should to get together and hang out- as in you guys and the rest of the Cheerios. We can have a girls' night out. I know I can get you into some clubs that don't only allow white folks."

Brittany would love to do this. She was well aware that the two girl groups did not get off on a good start-but she knew that after some time, her band mates would grow to like the Limettes as much as she did.

The Cheerio met the Limettes a few days ago, after finishing her dance practice with Mike. The girl group had dance practice right after the Cheerios. Quinn ignored the Limettes and didn't bother saying hello; she pushed pass the trio and stomped to the elevators. Rachel was too busy arguing with Mike about a particular dance move to notice. The blonde knew she shouldn't talk to the Limettes- Sue had made that very clear- but she was a nice person and nice people said hello to others.

She liked the Limettes. Mercedes was simply terrific. Tina, although a bit shy, was so much smarter than her it was sad; she would give her the most random facts every day. She found Santana hilarious, and even loved her crude humor. She would love to see her and Sue in a verbal match; she didn't know who would win but it would sure be interesting.

The Limettes did not know what to say. They, hang out with the Cheerios? Sue would simply explode from the thought. And they didn't even want to get started with Quinn...

"Thanks for the offer..." Tina began.

"But it would be a bit awkward," Santana finished, rolling her eyes.

"Not that it would be awkward exactly," Mercedes reasoned, trying not to sound rude. She could be grateful for this invitation, she really should but Emma warned her and the Limettes about attracting too much attention. "But I don't think Quinn likes us very much," Mercedes muttered as she finished the last of her malt. She really wanted to buy another one but resisted temptations. "She seems to have an attitude."

Brittany sighed. Mercedes was neither the first nor the last person to say that about Quinn. But she knew Quinn for years; she knew what was beyond that tough, mean-girl facade. "Quinn isn't that mean. You just have to get to know her..."

"I don't have time for that," Santana snapped. She was moments from showing Quinn just who was messing with when she last saw her.

"Quinn is much nicer than she lets on. You have to get pass the whole 'I'm the queen of the music world' thing and I'm sure you will grow to like her."

"Oh, I'm sure."

Brittany gave Santana a sharp look. She didn't want to make the Limettes think that they had to be best friends with Quinn, just understand that she had a lot if things going on. "I'm serious. She's been through a lot. She uses her snobby attitude to defend herself."

Tina sighed. "I know this will sound sad, but I'm so jealous of her. She's so pretty and perfect and-"

"Honey," Brittany said, cutting Tina off, shaking her head with disagreement. "Let me tell you something: no one's perfect, and Quinn's not the exception. There's no need to be jealous of Quinn. Now, you may think she's perfect, but that's her on the outside. She, like everyone else, has her own demons," Brittany really should not be spilling her team mates secrets but in reality, everyone knew about Quinn's drama. "She likes shooting up."

She quickly closed her mouth. Maybe she should not have mentioned that.

Mercedes dropped her sandwich. She hoped Brittany wasn't saying what she thought she was saying. "Heroin?"

"My god…"

"That may explain a lot."

Brittany did not say anything else about the topic; she said enough. Instead, she took a bite of her burger that she was not allowed to eat- she was feeling so guilty. She would just have to make sure she didn't eat dinner or tomorrow's breakfast.

Brittany glanced at the clock behind her table and cursed under her breath. How could she forget? She had to meet up with Sam at this fancy restaurant whose name she could not pronounce. She was not in the mood to go on another "date" with Sam- not that she didn't like him but they were meeting for all the wrong reasons.

"Brittany, is everything okay?" Tina asked, watching Brittany quickly finish the last of her burger.

"I have to go on a date. With Sam."

Mercedes, once again, choked on her fries. Great, this was just great. Of course Sam was dating Brittany. They looked fricken' perfect together. Her eyes widened a little- no, she did not just think that. And no, she was not envious of one of the nicest people she had ever met.

Santana narrowed her eyes. No, she would not admit that she was a bit jealous and disappointed by the recent development. "You two are really together?"

Brittany quickly looked through her purse, slightly frowning. Crap, where was here lipstick? She could've sworn she put it in her bag earlier. "We are. Well, not really. Sue is making us date in public so people can swoon over how cute we look. And New Directions manager thinks it's a splendid idea." She rolled her eyes. "Publicity stunts are a pain in my butt."

Santana grumbled and crossed her arms.

Tina gasped.

"So you two are dating, only for the public?" Mercedes asked in disbelief. She knew people pulled publicity stunts but she only thought movie stars did that. "What do you guys have to do?"

Brittany shrugged. "Nothing much. All we have to do is act like we're in love and give each other a kiss here and there. Make sure some photographers get a picture and make Sue happy."

"How long do you have to do this?"

Brittany sighed and closed her compact mirror. She wished Sue spent more time improving the Cheerio's singing and dancing skills and less time on trying to build up a public image. Why wasn't Quinn doing this? Or even Rachel? They both loved the spot light. "At least six months. Two already passed."

"Damn," was all Santana could mutter. So her plans to set Mercedes up with Sam- because she still believed that he was flirting with Mercedes big time last week- went out the window. Not that she was scared, but she was not in the mood to get in a fist fight with a six foot woman who might have connections with the feds.

"I'm sorry, you guys," Brittany said, feeling bad that she had to leave her new friends for something she really didn't want to do. Maybe she'll convinced Sam to go to the ice cream store instead of that fancy restaurant- ugh, she could not believe she had to do this. Fake dating someone she was not interested in was not in her contract. "But I have to leave."

"It's fine," Mercedes said.

Santana did not say anything.

"Thank you so much for the lunch," Tina said, taking out a couple of dollars for tip. It was the least she could do. She had her first real- but unhealthy- meal in a week. She had been living off oatmeal and peaches Mercedes' mother sent them a few days ago. "It was delicious."

Brittany eyed the money and frowned. "Tina, put it away. I said it was my treat."

Mercedes, hating that she had to rely on another person- who was a part of a "rival group", mind you, to provide her with lunch, felt bad that Brittany had to spend so much money. "I know this is your treat, but I'm so sorry about not being able to contribute and-"

"Mercedes Jones, how many times do I have to tell you that it's okay?" Brittany scoffed and brushed off Mercedes' apology. "This is my treat. I know you guys don't have much money," the Limettes looked at her with offense. Brittany let out a nervous laugh. "I mean, you don't have much right now. Not many people do when they enter the music business. You can treat me when your paychecks start coming in, deal?"

"Deal," Santana agreed all too quickly. "First check, we got you."


	4. Chapter 4

**CHAPTER THREE**

"How was your date with Brittany?"

"This is not the time, Finn."

"Jeez, I was just asking," Finn curtly replied. He would never understand Sam's aversion to dating Brittany Pierce. Sure, she was no Quinn or Rachel- which might not be a bad thing- but she was cute and damn, she knew how to move her body. Sam could make beautiful blonde babies with that girl. "I don't know what's up with you. Do you know how many guys would kill to have one date with her?"

Sam glared at the lead singer of New Directions. This was not the first, and definitely not the last, time someone had told Sam this. His manager loved the "arrangement." The media loved it; they wouldn't stop asking about if and when Sam planned to pop the question to Britney. And it didn't help that Sue and Dave was both fueling the media fire. They were convinced that Sam and Britney would make the perfect married singing couple. They even thought about having the two singers form a duet.

Thankfully, that idea had been put in the backburner thanks to the success of the Cheerios and New Directions.

"Then why don't you date her? Please, do me a favor and tell Sue that you'll be taking my place as Brittany's fake lover. Maybe then she can finally get off my back and out of my personal life. Can you give me back my hairspray?"

Sam didn't completely mean to sound so rude; Finn was only asking a question. But honestly, there was no reason why Finn should ask how the date went. The date went on like every other date went with Brittany. It was the same thing over and over again. The two singers met up as friends and talked like friends, not like the lovers that Sue and Dave wanted.

Sam did not think he could ever forgive his manager for agreeing with Sue about this maddening proposition. New Directions and the Cheerios were popular enough. The managers didn't have a good reason to pull a publicity stunt. Both groups dominated gossip magazines already.

To be honest, Sam thought Artie and Brittany should be the ones seeing each other. They seemed to have more in common, believe it or not, and more chemistry. The bass player was in love with the woman- he was in denial about this, but the truth finally came out once alcohol was involved.

"Your obsession with hairspray is not healthy man," Finn said, tossing the can to his friend who caught it without looking. "You're slowly turning into a girl."

"You shouldn't be talking, Finn Hudson. How long do you spend in front of the mirror?"

"Look, I need to look good for the ladies."

"So do I." Sam coughed from the can fumes. He hated hairspray with a passion but unfortunately, his mother would come all the way from Kentucky with a shotgun to kill him if he cut his hair or bangs. He had to put his hair back; according to Dave, it was the "style." He quickly looked up at the clock to his left. Damn it, they didn't have much time.

In less than a half an hour, New Directions was going to perform in front of over three hundred people. The crowd was smaller than usual, but Dave wanted the band to perform at a smaller venue before they went on their cross-country tour in about two weeks. The show started in less than thirty minutes and half of New Directions wasn't even here yet. Finn was becoming frustrated and Sam wanted nothing more than to leave this damn place and go to sleep- thanks to an incident that involved two certain Cheerios that he promised Finn not to speak of, he only had two hours of sleep. The fact that he could function was astonishing.

"Hey, you think it's true what they say about Dave?"

Sam stopped spraying his hair and gave his friend a look. This was one thing, besides his alleged relationship with Brittany, he never wanted to talk about. The rumor, if it was true, would certainly bring another scandal to McKinley. And God knew, the record company didn't need to deal with _another_ scandal; the Figgins drama was enough. "I don't know."

"I mean, it's a just rumor, right?" Finn nervously asked. He prayed that the gossip was false, but he heard it from Brittany- and he trusted her word because she knew everything about everybody. "He can't be a homo-"

"Finn, it's just a rumor. There's no evidence to prove that our manager likes men."

"That's the thing. Brittany said that Sugar saw him trying to kiss Kurt."

"That's not evidence." Sam sighed, watching his friend have a panic attack. "Are you sure it's not the other way around?"

"I'm serious, Sam."

Sam let out another sigh. As usual, Finn was making a big deal out of trivial things. They had a show to put on in twenty minutes and Artie and Rory were still not here. Dave was literally flipping shit, and Finn was worried about Dave's sexual orientation. He sure liked to choose the wrong times to worry about petty gossip.

Sam was finally done with his hair. Good, now Dave shouldn't throw a fit about his bangs being in his face. Sam was pretty sure that using so much hairspray was not good for his lungs, but it kept Dave's mouth shut so he would worry about his health later.

"If you're so interested in knowing the truth, why don't you ask Kurt?'

"You know I can't do that."

"Why not? He's your step brother."

Sam was right- he was right most of the time. He should just ask Kurt; he would definitely know. But it would be awkward doing so. What was he going to ask? Oh hey, Kurt, I want to know if you know if my manager is gay? Rumors would spread and distort in an unimaginable speed. The papers would go crazy and Quinn would ultimately maim him for destroying their "perfect" relationship image.

"I can't." Finn frowned. "I just can't believe that the rumors may be true. Dave doesn't even act like _them_. Like Kurt."

"No offense, but we have other things to worry about than our manager's sexuality," Sam peeped out the door and saw his fuming manager arguing with some poor worker. "Like where our other band members are. We can't play the drums, bass, guitar and sing at the same time."

"Rory said that he will be here right before the show starts, something about helping her grandmother with something." Finn put on his tie. "Artie should be here already."

Sam rolled his eyes and closed the door. He didn't have anything to say about Artie- except he better get his act together before Dave found out about his extracurricular activities.

"Why did you meet up with Brittany so late?" Finn, asked out of the blue. Sam has been short with him since four o'clock this morning. He wanted to make some small talk to ease the tension- though, if he wanted to do so, he shouldn't mention Brittany's name in anything. "I could've sworn you said you would meet her at noon, not five."

"We were," Sam responded but only do so because he knew Finn wouldn't shut up until he gave him a good answer. "But she couldn't make it at that time. She had lunch with the Limettes."

Sam regretted that he did not have the chance to spend more time with the Limettes. He had tried to meet up with them again, he really did but the past week had been crazy with Finn and Artie drama. And it didn't help that Dave and Sue had been watching him like a hawk thanks to the rumors that he might have some "interest" in the lead singer of the Limettes. He only wanted to spark a conversation with her, that was all.

He couldn't go anywhere in McKinley without being interrogated by the managers or Sue's assistant, Becky. He did not know what the deal was with the managers; it was like they were watching him to make sure that he didn't do anything that would be considered "out of line."

No, that was a lie, he knew exactly what the deal was- he just didn't give a damn. Okay, so none of the members were white, they couldn't even pass off as being so. Sam didn't mind. Dave, on the other hand, went on a rant about media and whatnot because Rachel- that loud mouth- had told him that Sam was talking to Mercedes.

Dave, as usual, took it to the next level because apparently speaking to the opposite would result in engaging in intimate activities.

Not that Sam would be against that. God, he wanted to kiss Mercedes so bad. She was gorgeous; the most beautiful woman he ever met. And she was talented; she blew every singer out of the water with her voice and-

All he said to Mercedes was 'Hello, how is your day?' That was all. He was only being polite. It wasn't like he was having a full-fledged conversion and even if he wanted to, which he did, quite a lot, Mercedes wouldn't let him say more than two sentences to her without walking away.

"The Limettes?" Finn asked, fixing his tie. "Didn't Quinn get in a fight with one of them?"

Finn didn't know much about the Limettes. All he knew was that Sue was pissed off beyond belief that Billy Johnson would dare defy her wishes and hire another girl group. According to Brittany, the three ladies were great but according to Quinn, they were losers- but then again, Quinn tended refer to everyone as losers. He decided that he wasn't going to get involved with them; Sue would get mad and tell Dave who would, in turn, get mad at him.

Call him a coward. He wouldn't care. He valued his job and if he wanted to maintain his role as lead singer of New Directions, he had to continue kissing everyone's ass.

"Quinn gets into fights with everyone."

"True." Finn nodded in agreement. He had to talk to Quinn about that; it wasn't doing her public image any favors- once, she decided to stop playing the silent game with him. "But I heard this one was bad."

Sam didn't even have to ask which Limette Finn was talking about. Santana was definitely a firecracker; apparently, she made Sue's death list- not easy to do since the girl group only got signed two weeks ago. He had a feeling she and Quinn clashed because of their over-inflated egos.

"Did fists fly?"

"No, but they almost did." Finn replied, believing he was making some progress. Sam was loosening up. "Sue said that we and the Cheerios aren't allowed to interact with them. Doing so would not be good for our image."

"I don't care what she said." Sam gave Finn an annoyed look; he was actually listening to that crazy woman? Why Billy thought she was fitting for a band manager was beyond him. "Dave's our manager, not Sue."

"Yes, I know. But she has Dave wrapped around her finger. She has all of the managers wrapped around her finger." Finn let out a nervous laugh. "It's like she's running the Cheerios _and _New Directions-"

"Dave's _our manager_, not Sue," Sam sternly repeated, becoming even more annoyed that Finn was scared of Sue. Sure, she was a bit intimidating, but seriously, she wasn't their problem. Finn should let the Cheerios deal with her. "Did you even meet the Limettes in person? They seemed fine to me."

Finn gave him _the_ look.

"I'm guessing that's a no?"

"You guessed right." Finn ran a hand through his hair; bad move. He had to do his hair all over again. It had to be perfect or else Dave would throw a fit. "The last thing I need is for Rachel or Quinn to see me talking to other women."

"You need to do something with that before shit really goes down," Sam warned. "And I may not be as willing to help you when that happens. Which it will."

"Like I said this morning, I'll deal with it."

"The last time you said that, Quinn slapped you in the face. Hard. And then threatened to set your car on fire."

Finn deeply frowned. That was something he definitely didn't need to be reminded of.

Artie Abrams rushed into the room, said a quick hello to his band mates and threw his bag on the floor. He didn't have time for small talk; he was late, twenty minutes late. He had promised the band that he would be on time this and it looked like he could keep his promise, of course he got side-tracked because of something he would rather not talk about.

"You're late."

"I'm sorry. Things got in the way," he glanced at Sam- great, he was mad at him again- then back at Finn. "How many minutes we got?"

"Twenty-three."

Sam didn't acknowledge the bass player. He wanted to look like he was too engrossed in fixing his bowtie in the right position to notice Artie strolling in the dressing room. He had it with Artie and his drama.

Finn didn't ignore Artie. He stood up tall, crossed his arms with a mean scowl on his face, watching Artie trying to put himself together. "Where the fuck were you?"

Artie narrowed his eyes and rushed to change his clothes. He looked like he just ran a marathon and he sound like it when he tried to explain why he was an hour late. "Brooklyn."

"What the hell were you doing there? I thought you said you were you going to be in Riverdale."

Sam did not care for the answer. He knew Artie and he knew why he was at the other side of the city. He just couldn't understand it. How could someone so smart be so dumb? Was he trying to go to jail?

"I had to make a delivery for a friend," Artie reluctantly replied. He already knew what Sam and Finn were thinking. "And I need some hash from another friend. But it wasn't supposed to take this long-"

"You came here late because you wanted some god damn grass?"

Artie shot Sam a mean look. He didn't understand. He just didn't understand what he had to do. "I know this sounds bad-"

"No, shit."

"Thank you, Finn," Artie replied sarcastically. He took off his shirt and replaced it with a button up shirt. He wished he could perform with his normal clothes, but Dave would have an aneurysm if he saw his attire. "But I had to do a favor for a friend. He's the reason why I'm not behind bars."

"Can you do these favors on days when we don't have a show to put on?"

Sam could understand Finn's frustration. Artie had to know that dealing and using illegal drugs was not doing his public image or career any favors.

"Like I have a say in that."

Sam snorted.

"Really, Sam? I'm not kidding when I say I don't have a choice in this."

Sam snorted again. "I know you don't, but you should have thought about that when you thought it was a splendid idea to make homemade drugs in your hotel room."

Artie did not bother replying. Yeah, he knew what he did was stupid and he had to pay for this mistake for the rest of his life. It wasn't that he wanted to be involved in the drug trade. It was either help out his cop 'friend' who literally saved him from going prison and kissing his music career goodbye.

Instead, the bass player just changed his clothes.

* * *

Dave Karofsky was a busy man. He had to manage one of the biggest bands in the country and make sure they remained relevant on the charts or else Billy would fire him- the man was a fire-happy man, one slip up and anyone could kiss his or her career good bye. He had to schedule eleven shoes before New Directions go on their annual countrywide tour. Eleven- two and a half times more than last year.

He wanted to rip whatever was left of his hair out when Billy insisted, more like demanded, the additional shows. And the man had the nerve to suggest that he should book a show at the Apollo in the middle of Harlem. _The Apollo_.

Did Billy want to spark a race riot?

Dave ran his fingers through his short brown hair and marched backstage. New Directions was going to perform in seven minutes- it was supposed to be three, but the announcer just arrived at the venue. The venue was a ballroom turned theater in downtown Yonkers, right outside of New York City. It was a decent sized place, much smaller than the venues New Directions generally performed at, but perhaps a smaller show was what the boy band needed. More times than not, larger shows equaled larger problems.

As soon as he saw the announcer's assistant, Dave grabbed the poor man's collar, pushed in against the nearest wall and growled. "If your boss isn't back here in thirty seconds, we're leaving. Got it?"

The assistant meekly nodded and scurried away as soon as Dave released him. The manager growled as he watched the assistant frantically asking anyone he could fine about the whereabouts of the announcer.

He turned his attention to his next victim, a woman who couldn't be any older than twenty-five, tightly holding her clipboard to her chest. She violently shuddered as Dave's eyes landed on her.

"Where's my band?" Dave roughly asked, not giving a damn if he instilled fear inside the woman. He had a show to run.

"They're coming as we speak."

Dave let out yet another growl and marched in the direction of the dressing room.

* * *

Finn wasn't surprised when he heard Dave's booming voice from down the hall. He sounded mad, real mad, but he was always mad about something. Even things that normal people didn't get mad about. He manager should seriously consider taking anger management class; he would be the perfect candidate.

"Looks like we'll have to be on Dave's good side for the rest of the night."

Sam snorted, not liking the idea that Dave was going to take all of frustrations out on them yet again. He took out his guitar out of the case. "What else is new?"

Rory Flanagan barged into the dressing room, out of breath. He apologized about his lateness; claimed that it was because his eighty-something year old grandmother wanted to move her coach up to her new apartment in White Plains. He couldn't say no; she was his grandmother and his father would rip him a new one if he found out that his son did not have enough time to help her. Of course she picked a day when there was a concert.

He noticed Artie staying as far away from Finn and Sam as possible; he watched the bass player finish putting on his clothes, grabbing his bass and strolling out of the room without another word. He let out a sigh.

"What's his problem?"

"He thinks selling grass is more than important than showing at a gig on time."

Rory grumbled. So Artie was at it again. The bass player promised that he would lay off the recreational stuff until the summer- that was three days ago. "Dave's not going to be happy when he finds out about this…"

"Artie better hope that time never comes. You know Dave has no problem kicking people out."

"What's the lineup for tonight?" Sam asked, trying to change topics.

"The usual," Finn opened a can of beer and gulped down half of the can. He wiped his mouth with the back of the hand. He always had to have a drink before going on stage. It calmed his nerves. "We'll sing 'California Girls' first," Finn decided. "Sam, you do the second verse."

"I thought the point of the lead singer is to sing all of the verses. And the rest of us just play our instruments and sing in the background and smile as if there is nothing wrong with the world."

Artie and Rory exchanged wary looks.

Finn didn't reply. So the guitar player was still mad about last night- he couldn't blame him. He would be pissed off too if he was in Sam's position- but he wasn't and he wished that Sam would push his frustrations aside, at least until the show was over.

This was entirely his fault, he concluded, roughly putting his suit jacket on. This was what he got for being stuck in a love-triangle that contained enough drama to make Hollywood jealous. The only people who seemed to be enjoying this were Sue and Dave- for their own selfish reasons- and the media.

"I have no problem with that," Rory replied, glancing between Sam and Finn. He let out a sigh. Rory was not going to get involved in whatever was going on between Finn and Sam. He heard bits and pieces of what might have happen- from Brittany of course- but this was not the time to ask them about anything.

It was not difficult for one to notice the unsettling tension between the members of New Directions. Dave and the rest of McKinley's management tried to ignore it as much as possible; every band had its own problem and New Directions was not different. They all believed the tension would disappear soon enough. Of course that was exactly what they said a year ago, when the seemingly flawless and problem-less boy band's problems began to surface. Nothing much had changed.

New Directions had only been together for a few years. Prior to 1962, the members didn't even know the others existed. Each guy came to McKinley to get a suitable music career. It was Billy who thought that Finn, Artie, Sam and Rory should become a single singing act. He appointed Finn was the leader because he was – what was the word Sue often used- a pushover.

Finn might be a pushover and yes-man to Billy, Emma, Dave and ultimately Sue, but there was one aspect of his life the managers could not control, at least completely and that was Finn and his girl problems. He had two girls fighting over him, one he liked but thought that she wanted to take things to a level he wasn't prepared for, and the other he liked too, but was forced upon him by his manager and his fans.

He didn't ask to be in this situation. He had figured that drama was soon to follow as soon as he became a successful musician, but damn, he didn't expect to be in a middle of a publicity stunt and a love triangle from Hell.

"We need to get out of here before Dave blows a fuse," Finn announced, glancing at both his band mates. "Oh come on guys, lighten up. We're on in five-"

"Yes. We know," Rory replied.

Finn rubbed the back of his head. Could Rory and Sam at least make believe that they wanted to be here? Bad attitudes would make the show a disaster.

Finn patted Sam's shoulders with both hands. "Try not to be too excited."

Sam glared at Finn's retreating form and picked up his guitar. The sooner the show started, the sooner it would be over. He glanced at Rory who was quickly putting his outfit on. Dave sure chose the right night for a show- who had a show on a Tuesday night?

"Rory, we got to go!"

"Hold your horses. I'm coming, damn it!" Rory called out. He hurriedly buttoned his shirt, checked to see if his hair and everything else was fine. He couldn't look like he only took four minutes to get ready and grabbed his drumsticks.

Sam practically pushed Rory out of the dressing room, ignoring numerous insults coming from the drummer.

"It took you long enough," was the first thing Dave said when New Directions approached the stage curtains. He had his arms crossed, glowering at the four young, irresponsible men. He didn't get it. What was so hard about being on time? He didn't care for the excuses Rory and Artie gave him. He abhorred excuses. "You know the line up?" The band nodded. "Good."

And then Dave started complaining about how the band didn't put their hearts into the music anymore and how Sue believed that Finn and Sam were slacking in the "dating" department and how Artie needed to get his priorities straight.

Sam half-heartedly paid attention to Dave's rant. This was something he did not want to hear right before going on stage. He looked back at his band mates who had the same expression as his on their faces. Dave didn't seem to care; he kept on talking.

"You're on in five!" the show coordinator shouted from behind the stage curtains. He whispered something into the camera man's ear and rushed across the stage.

"Don't fuck this up," Dave whispered. The manager glared harshly at the announcer who rushed to the stage, fixing his tie and not realizing that he bumped into Dave along the way.

The announcer glanced apprehensively at the manager who was still glaring at him. He cleared his throat and mouthed an apology. He didn't intend to be late. He looked back at the crowd who cheered at the sight of him arranging the microphone.

"Hi everybody!" The announcer spoke loudly on the mic. He grinned as the audience cheered even louder. "How you all doing?"

"_Good_!"

"That's great." The announcer held his hand out as he introduced the act. "Now get your hands together for the hottest band on the east coast, heck, the country, New Directions!"

The crowd erupted in an uproar.

"Let's get this show on the road," Finn said, walking onto the stage, followed by the rest of New Directions. He ignored the loud shouts and screams of fans from behind the curtains. Sam slowly walked to his floor position as the curtains opened up revealing a crowd of about three hundred people, mostly young women and teenagers and disgruntled boyfriends. Fortunately, the venue had remembered to provide security. The last place New Directions performed at, somewhere on Long Island, there were no guards and the show had to end early due to rowdy fans who all wanted a piece of New Directions. There were several police officers lined up at the front of the stage with their batons, ready to fend off any overzealous fans.

The crowd lost its mind when Finn waved to it. He glanced back at his band mates. "You ready, guys?"

Sam was not in the mood to sing tonight. He hadn't been in the mood to sing for people for quite a while. To be honest, Sam didn't want to be in the music business. He really wanted to be in professional sports, football to be more exact, playing the quarterback position. In high school, he was a star player; he was even going to get recruited to Alabama State, but then someone discovered that he had nice vocals and the rest of history.

Sam loved to sing and play the guitar, but he hated everything that came with it. He shouldn't complain though, he was making more money than he could ever dream of. People, at least, fans- especially, fan girls- knew his name, but there were times- many times- when he wished he could drop everything and move back home. He couldn't do that, of course, he had a family to provide for- receiving thank you letters and phone calls from his family made all the bullshit worth it.

* * *

Holly Holiday did not expect a phone call from McKinley Records at seven at night; she didn't expect to hear from the record company any time of the day. She was almost positive, no, she was definitely positive that she had changed her number and address after quitting her job at that godforsaken place.

(Most people at McKinley did not believe that Holly had left the company solely for her own purposes. Rumors claimed that she was asked to leave her post as the publicity chairperson after Sugar caught her sucking faces- her words- with the lead singer of the Warblers, Blaine Anderson. To this day, Holly still insisted that she had only kissed Blaine to test to see if he truly preferred his own sex over the opposite sex, but Billy still wouldn't hear any of that.)

She did not want to deal with McKinley again. She was perfectly fine being the assistant manager of a local bar in Greenwich Village. Sure, her bank account had suffered significantly, but she was single and childless; she could live on her own comfortably. And she had been McKinley-free for over a year now, so one could only imagine her disbelief when one of her fellow bartenders told her that she received a call from Emma Pillsbury and it was urgent.

Holly was even more surprised when Emma relayed the message that Billy, of all people, wanted meet with her that night, in person.

A part of her didn't want to go. She and Billy did not end their professional relationship on the best of terms, and she was not in the mood to get into yet another fight with him. However, she knew Billy; he wouldn't request anyone's presence at night unless it was important.

She had to laugh at herself as she hauled a cab. In the end, she really shouldn't be that surprised. She knew McKinley wouldn't be able to function properly without her presence. Come on, she was Holly Hollida. She might be a little on the wild side, but she was an expert on public relations. She was the queen of damage control.

It had only taken her twenty minutes to arrive at McKinley. Much to her surprise, as soon she got out of the cab, she was met not by Billy, whom she expected, but by Emma, who was staring at her intently.

She quickly glanced at Emma then paid the cabdriver.

Well, she had to admit, she was a bit disappointed. She wanted Billy to meet her and apologize about his unnecessary conduct surrounding the whole Blaine incident.

"Hello, Ms. Holliday. It has been a while, hasn't it?"

Holly slung her purse over her shoulder. "Yeah, it has. How are you?"

"I'm fine, thank you." Emma replied leading Holly into the building. She wasted no time explaining to Holly about why she was at McKinley. "I apologize for the short notice. It has been a very busy day, to say the least, but I assure you that you will not be here for long."

"It's fine." Holly looked around the lobby. Everything looked exactly the same; it was as if she had traveled back in time, right on the day she was fired. "So, am I here to save McKinley from another public scandal?" She asked in a joking tone.

Emma did not laugh. "No, your presence is needed for another reason. Billy had just signed a new girl group a couple of weeks ago, a girl group that desperately needs a manager."

Holly blinked. "Are you telling me that I am not her to be a public relations chair?"

"No. Billy wants you to become the new manager of the Limettes."

"You're joking."

"I do not joke around when it comes to business matters, Ms. Holliday."

Holly did not know what else to say. She had limited experience in managing music acts. She was only an assistant manager for the Classettes, another girl group that broke apart after some serious internal issues that involved the mob, for five years. She also was the assistant manager for the Cheerios for about two years; she wouldn't have minded staying with the Cheerios longer, but she had Sue butted heads too many times to be healthy.

She supposed she should be happy. Being a manager of a music act was a lot more honorable than being an assistant manager of a bar, where local drunkards constantly confused her with Grace Kelly- she didn't even want to know how they came to that conclusion. But she really did not want to deal with Sue and her entitlement issues.

"You want me to be a manager?" Holly asked, just to make sure she wasn't hearing things. "And since when does McKinley have another girl group? Didn't Sue-?"

"This is not about Sue," Emma sternly replied. "This is about the Limettes. They maybe be new, but they have potential." As if on cue, the vice president noticed the Limettes walking about of the dance studio with Mike. Emma titled her head in the trio's direction. "That's them right there. It would be advisable to introduce yourself as soon as possible. I expect good things from you."


	5. Chapter 5

**CHAPTER FOUR**

It had only taken Tina two and a half weeks to be convinced that Santana's main goal in life was to get into Noah Puckerman's pants and under Brittany's skirts, and she was pretty sure that Santana would not mind having them both in her bed at the same time.

She thought about how scandalous that would be, having a threesome with a man _and_ a women, but then again, this was Santana she was talking about. Nothing was too scandalous for Santana Lopez.

Tina leaned against the doorway and watched Santana and Mercedes as they chatted with the producer. Emma was definitely right about one thing: Noah, no, Tina remembered, he liked to be known as Puck, and Santana's personalities matched, a little too much.

Holly was standing across Tina, looking through her notepad. She wasn't paying much mind to Santana's antics. She reminded the manager of her younger self so much it almost scared her. She actually wasn't paying to the Limettes at this moment. She had so many things to do, she wished that the day was forty-hours long instead of twenty-four. Well, at least the Limettes finished recording one song.

The manager job was hard and tedious, especially since she was dealing with a new act. Holly was glad she was managing for a new group. Sure, she would have to start from scratch, but it was a lot better than dealing with an old group that had a lot of baggage.

The first few days as manager had been interesting. Billy had seemed to forgive her for her previous actions. Will had been trying to convince her to go on a date with him (which she had vehemently denied because the last thing she needed at this moment was to be on Emma's bad side). She had to pull some strings in the Limettes favor, such as persuading Puck to record a single a week earlier than initially scheduled. And to top it off, she had to deal with Sue.

She had gotten into an argument with Sue yesterday after the Cheerios manager found out that her employee was now her rival. Holly never liked Sue and she highly doubted she ever would. She had the unfortunate pleasure of working for the Cheerios manager as the assistant manager for a few years and to put it bluntly, it was hell. But there was one thing Holly had to commend her former superior on, she was dedicated to the Cheerios. Yes, Sue might use to tactics that would be considered unethical, unprofessional and at times, illegal, but she was hell-bent on one thing: making the Cheerios the best girl group ever created.

And so far, it looked like she was doing one hell of a job.

Holly sighed and checked her watch. The Limettes had ten minutes to talk with Puck before they had to leave. The Cheerios were scheduled to see the producer right after the Limettes, and Holly didn't want to be in Sue's presence unless she had to.

Mercedes was discussing with Puck about the Limettes' new song and how they should spice it up a bit. Apparently, she believed that they sounded too generic and they last thing a new group needed was too sound like the other groups.

Santana added her input whenever she had the chance.

Tina let out a sigh. Santana, with all of her talents, was not good hiding her intentions or attractions to anyone. Santana had most likely scared Sam away, which Tina was convinced was the reason why the guitarist had not been talking to the Limettes lately. And don't get her started with Brittany.

Puck seemed to be the only man who was charmed by Santana's charms. He was flirting with the Latina just as much as she was and did not mind the fact that Santana was literally rubbing herself against him.

Tina let out another sigh. The other last thing the novice group needed was to be on the front page news, not because of their musical talents and achievements, but because of a scandal created by Santana who decided to have an affair with a famous producer.

Her parents would not approve.

The recording sessions with Puck ended fifteen minutes ago. It has turned out a lot better than expected- Tina was a bit of a pessimist so she did not come in with high expectations. Puck was a musical genius and disagreed with Will's sentiment that the Limettes should sound like every other girl group in the country. He loved Mercedes' voice, Santana's "impressive" dance movies that resembled a mating ritual to Tina more than anything, and Tina's calmness-

She supposed that was intended to be a compliment?

"Do you really think that 'Then He Kissed Me," will be a hit? I mean, it's practically a recycled song. I'm sure people have heard it before."

Tina and Holly exchanged looks and shook their head. This was the eleventh time, and yes Tia had been counting, time that Mercedes asked this very question, because apparently the other ten times were not enough for her. And each time, Mercedes received the same answer:

"Hell yeah, this is going to be bigger than a hit!" Puck shouted with more enthusiasm than before. "Number one hit, for sure!"

"It better be," Holly commented. "You guys sound great, and if everything works out, everything in the Tri-State and beyond will hear this song by tomorrow. It will be on practically every station in this area."

Holly thanked God that she was still well acquainted with several radio hosts.

Puck chuckled and give the manager a thumb up.

Tina sighed for the third time. So it seemed that Puck had changed his wording. He sounded more excited. Whether it was because he honestly thought that the Limettes would be successful with this song or that Santana was looking at him with _those_ eyes was up to debate.

Santana needed to stop being so darn obvious.

"I simply can't wait to see Sue's face when this song scores number one on the charts," Santana said, finally letting Puck go and rubbing her hands together. "It will be priceless, I'm sure."

Tina slightly chuckled as Mercedes gave Santana a dirty look. Mercedes did not believe in spiting people, even those who were not very fond of her. It could bring bad karma, something the Limettes could not afford at this moment.

Santana raised an eyebrow at her band mate. She didn't see the issue because, hello, this was Sue she was talking about. Sue was the enemy; she wanted to bring the Limettes down.

"Sue send a hit after you ladies if that happened," Puck commented because it was the sad truth. Sue had written him an entire manifesto about why he should refuse to work with the Limettes. Of course Puck had to decline because not only would Billy fire him, he would feel guilty for the rest of his life. The Limettes had talent and their voices needed to be heard.

"Not if I have anything to say about it," Santana replied, placing her hands on her hips and sending everyone a menacing look. "Our number one is going to come- oh and I dare Quinn to say something smart, I will-"

Mercedes groaned. Santana had to learn how to let things go. The Quinn incident happened last week. "Santana, Quinn's not even here and you're already threatening her." She shook her head with disapproval then shifted her attention back to the producer. "Thank you so much for everything. Hopefully, everyone will think the song is as amazing as you say."

"No problem."

Mercedes gave Puck one last smile before saying her goodbye, following Holly and leading the rest of the Limettes out of the studio. Santana called out a goodbye causing her two friends to roll their eyes.

The Limettes had a three-hour break before they had to head to the dance studio. Tina and Santana offered to go to lunch at two, a reasonable time, but it was an hour away and Mercedes had to decline. She couldn't wait that long. She knew it was horrible of her. She was the leader of the Limettes; she should be with her group most of the time, but damn-

Mercedes was downright starving. She was on diet, yes she understood that. She had cut back on the grease and fat, which was not fun but was doable. The last thing she had anything fried was last Monday, when Brittany had treated the Limettes to lunch. She could deal with not eating fried foods, but there was only so much dieting she could deal with.

Shannon said that she should lose at least forty pounds. She had said that Mercedes was overweight and that losing some would improve not only her image, but her health.

Mercedes would not say that was necessarily overweight. She was just blessed with some assets that some women would spend thousands to have. There was nothing wrong with losing a few pounds. She had already lost ten since she arrived in New York City.

Mercedes hastened her step while her stomach grumbled. This only eating a little food diet was not working for her. Her body was mad- it wouldn't allow waiting for two hours to be nourished. It demanded that she went to the cafeteria right before it opened so she would not have to face other members of the McKinley family.

Mercedes knew this was going to be a bad idea from the start. She could feel it. She could feel it from the moment she walked out of Will's room and headed straight for the elevators. She knew she should have listened to Tina and go with her friends to get some lunch together instead of complaining that she could only live on a piece of a bagel and yogurt for so long.

Her fears were confirmed when she noticed the last person, who wasn't Sue, she wanted to see today waking in her direction.

Mercedes cursed.

_Damn it_.

Lord knew Mercedes did not know want to deal with Sam Evans right now, later on, hell, for the rest of her life. She looked around searching for an escape route and cursing when she realized that no, she couldn't take the stairs right down the hall; they were conveniently right behind Sam and that damn infuriating smile that Mercedes wished never affected her.

Terrific.

And Mercedes was doing _so_ well at making sure that did not see that man. So well.

Mercedes couldn't say that she was avoiding Sam, because that would not be completely true. She only made sure that she limited any interactions with Sam that would not be inevitable. Santana, of course, had claimed that Mercedes was definitely avoiding Sam and doing so was pathetic. But like always, Mercedes chose not to believe her.

It wasn't that she did not like him. No, it was quite the opposite and that was the problem. It was an issue because Mercedes liked to believe that she was a rational woman, and rational women did not want to jump someone's bones just because they liked a man's smile.

She could only imagine what her folks back in Lima would think about this. They would shake their heads in shame.

Mercedes decided that she was making a fool out of herself by trying to find a way to escape. She couldn't just turn around and back into the elevators, no matter how good that idea sound. No, because doing so would be cowardly ad Mercedes Jones did not do cowardly. If she could travel hundreds of miles away from her family, live in the largest city in the United States with extremely limited funds, and not get chased out of McKinley by a manager of a "rival" girl group, then she could certainly talk to Sam without wishing that the floor beneath her would swallow her whole.

Mercedes, because she wasn't a coward, stood up tall.

She could do this.

"Hello, Ms. Jones. How are you?"

"I am fine, thank you," Mercedes replied as soon as Sam stopped in front of her. "And how is your day?" She paused then frowned. "And why do you insist on calling me Ms. Jones? It makes me sound old. I'm twenty-five, not forty."

"I apologize. I didn't realize I offended you." Sam grinned widely and Mercedes, oh honest to God, she swore she wasn't, attempted not to convey any emotions. "Do you mind if I call you Mercy?"

"How about Mercedes, instead? That's the name written on my birth certificate. It was given to me by my mother."

"Mercedes is a beautiful name, no doubt, but everyone calls you Mercedes," Sam answered, smirking at Mercedes' growing look of irritation. He loved riling her up; her expressions were simply mesmerizing, no matter what they were. "I like to be special. You know, think outside of the box."

"Oh, you're special alright."

Sam flashed her a megawatt smile. "Thank you."

"It wasn't a compliment."

Sam did not seem to be offended by Mercedes's harsh tone of voice. Instead, he dug his hands in pockets and asked, "Where are you heading?"

Mercedes blinked then instantly remembered the reason why she was walking down his hall in the first place. "Not that it is any of your business," she began with a slight irritation in voice. It wasn't fair to Sam. He wasn't doing anything wrong, or maybe he was. She wasn't acting the nicest to him and it seemed that he just did not care. "But I am heading to the cafeteria."

"What a coincidence? So was I."

Of course he was.

Mercedes thought about changing her mind and heading back to the lounge where the rest of her group was at. Going to the same place that Sam was heading would definitely violate her promise to herself to limit any interactions with Sam, but her hunger won her over. She would just have to suck it up. It wouldn't be that bad, she concluded, just because she and Sam just happened to be going to the same place did not mean they had to talk to each other and-

"Come on, let's go," Sam said, taking Mercedes hand. He chose not to pay attention to the look of pure shock and confusion, with underlying embarrassment, on Mercedes' face. "We should hurry. The secret is to arrive at the cafeteria before it opens for lunch. Then you don't have to worry about the food getting cold and sometimes, the cooks would give you a discount if they're in a good mood."

The cafeteria was on the second floor of McKinley Tower. It was a nice spacious room, not too fancy, not too casual. Emma had said that it was a newest additional to the building. Some of the staff had complained about wasting too much of their breaks finding a restaurant to eat at so Billy decided to building one right on the premises.

The room was empty, thank God, save for the janitor who was mopping the floor towards the back. It was only five after twelve; people would not start showing up for another good forty minutes. Sam smiled back at Mercedes before grabbing her hand once again and leading her to the food station.

Mercedes simply concluded that she was going to ignore the fact that she might be enjoying having Sam's hand wrapped around hers. Denial was not always a terrible thing.

"I know it doesn't look like much," Sam began, letting Mercedes go and getting himself a plate and some utensils. He picked up another plate and handed it to Mercedes. "But this place has some of the best food."

Mercedes stared down at the plate. Sure Sam didn't think…? She groaned; he did. "That's alright," she said, putting the plate back on the counter. She tried to suppress her growing need to eat something but her stomach betrayed her by growling. It didn't matter; she controlled her actions, not her stomach. She would simply eat later, when Sam wasn't around. "I am not hungry."

Sam blinked a couple of times, perhaps confused, but then sighed realizing what Mercedes was trying to do. "You're not going to watch me eat," he declared placing the plate back in Mercedes' hand. He then deeply inhaled the smell of the wonderful food. "Damn, that smells amazing."

Mercedes look down at the plate once again, grimacing. She had only twenty dollars in her wallet and the money had to last for until the end of next week. She couldn't afford to spend money here, no matter how food the food smelled. "How much does the food cost?"

Sam gave her a look before putting some mashed potatoes on his plate. "Five bucks, but it's all you can eat. And if you're nice to the ladies, they may even let you take some home." He winked at one of the cooks who waved at him.

Mercedes put the plate back.

"What do you think you're doing?"

Mercedes groaned. It was embarrassing, putting something back just because she couldn't afford it. She should have just come here with Tina and Santana like she had initially planned. "It cost five dollars…"

"My God, Mercy." Sam reached for the plate again and placed it in Mercedes' hands, hopefully for the last time. "Just take the damn thing,"

"Sam, I appreciate the gesture, but I can't afford it."

"Who said you were paying?"

_Oh_.

"I'm not going to let you pay for my meal," Mercedes stated a little harsher than she intended.

She didn't want to sound ungrateful. No, she definitely was not ungrateful. It was nice for Sam to offer to buy her lunch, but a part of her felt like accepting Sam's offer would be like accepting handout or a welfare check from the government. It was a drastic example, she knew that, but she didn't want people to buy her things out of pity. It was a pride thing.

Maybe she should apologize for her rudeness. Sam did nothing wrong; all he did was offer her to buy some lunch, not a big deal at all. Mercedes, feeling a bit bad, cleared her throat and said, "I'm sorry. I don't want to sound like I don't appreciate your offer, because I do, but I don't want you to buy me anything. I'll be fine."

"Mercedes, it's not a big deal really." Sam knew where this was heading. He grabbed a napkin and placed it on Mercedes' plate, ignoring the look of disapproval his lady friend (he would like to think of them as friends even though Mercedes might not feel the same) gave him. "Look, I know how it is. Most people in this business are low on cash until they have their big break. Hell, I came to this city with three dollars to my name and lived on Snicker bars and chips for a week. So can you do me a favor and please stop trying to convince me not to buy your lunch?"

Mercedes let out a sigh as her shoulders slumped in defeat. It would be futile arguing with Sam. He was just as stubborn as her. "Fine, but this will be the last time you're buying me lunch. Do you understand Mr. Evans?"

"Yes, ma'am."

Sam grinned triumphantly and watched Mercedes while she walked up to the counter. He honestly did not see what the problem was. He was offering to buy lunch that cost five dollars, not a hundred. His attention shifted from Mercedes' behavior to a familiar face he saw walking out of the kitchen, carrying a large pan of food.

"You see that lady over there?" Sam said, nudging Mercedes on the arm and gesturing towards an older white woman at the end of the food station. She placed the pan down before checking on the rest of the food. "Her name is Lucille Rogers, but everyone calls her Ms. Lucy. She's from Savannah, Georgia and is the best cook in this place, hell, this city."

"Is it because she's from Georgia?"

"Of course. We Southern people know how to make some good food," Sam announced proudly waving at Ms. Lucy who waved a serving spoon back at him. He purposely did not pay attention to the odd look she gave Mercedes.

"Does 'we' include you?"

"Why, yes it does."

"Really?" Mercedes gave Sam a devious look then proceeded to walk down the food station. She glazed over all of the food. Well, it looked like Sam was right after all. Everything looked and smelled delicious. "It would've been wise to keep that piece of info to yourself."

"And why is that?"

"Unfortunately for you, I have a weakness for southern dishes. Now since I know that you can contribute to my weakness, you're going to have to make me some food."

"Darn it, I guess I shouldn't have said anything," Sam joked, taking a spoonful of mash potatoes. "Well, I suppose I don't have any choice, do I? What would you like me to make for you?"

"Okay then, I want a three-course meal. And make sure you need some candy yams because I love them more than anything. Oh and for dessert, I would like some red velvet cake or carrot cake. I'm not picky."

"You want me to make _all_ of that?"

Mercedes tried not to laugh. "I thought you said you knew how to cook."

"Yeah, but I'm a very busy man." Sam put a piece of cornbread on Mercedes' plate, ignoring her protest. Apparently, she was supposed to be on a diet, but Sam chose not to pay attention to that. "I'll tell you what; I'll make you some dinner before I go on tour again. I can make candy yams, but I can't promise you the cake. What do you say?"

"Sounds tempting," Mercedes slowly replied. She should say no. It was the wise and rational thing to do because if her group, or worse, Sue found out, it wasn't going to be pretty. But it wasn't like he was asking her out on a date or anything like that. "But I'll have to think about it."

The two singers did not say anything else as they continued to pile more food onto their plates. Mercedes tried her best to choose the 'healthier' food, but the cake and the greens and the ham were so darn tempting. She decided that she would cave into her cravings just for today, then resume her diet tomorrow.

As soon as they were done and Sam paid for the food (Mercedes had, once again, tried to convince him not to pay for her meal, but it only resulted in a small argument that ended with Sam _still_ not changing his mind), Sam said thanks to Ms. Lucy, who was still acting a bit odd, and led Mercedes to the empty sitting area.

"Where should we sit?"

"Huh?"

We? What was Sam talking about _we_? As far Mercedes was concerned, there was no such thing as _we_. Harsh, she knew that, but she vowed not to complicate her life and she had decided that anything involving Sam would do just that. She planned to sit in the corner by herself and quick eat her lunch so she could have time to have a much needed nap.

Mercedes shook her head and replied with, "Oh, um I don't think it would smart if we sit together… I'm going to sit at the corner over there. I really do need to hurry up and eat."

"What- why?"

Mercedes gave him a look. He couldn't be serious, right? She didn't want to think what would happen if someone came in here and saw her sitting with Sam. Like Brittany had said, rumors spread like a wildfire at McKinley. "Oh come on, you know why. People are going to talk and the news will reach Sue and your manager, and frankly, I'm not in the mood to deal with the both of them anytime soon."

Sam could understand where she was coming from, but that didn't mean he agreed with it. Yes, Dave might have a stroke if he found out that Sam was eating lunch with Mercedes. The manager had almost blown a fuse yesterday when Artie, and his big mouth, slipped that Sam was sort of, kind of, just a little bit interested in Mercedes.

"People will talk no matter what you do," Sam said, shrugging. "So you may as well do what you want instead of trying to please everyone and do what's expected of you."

Mercedes scoffed. "Says the one who's pretending to date a Cheerio."

As much as Sam hated to admit it, Mercedes had a point. According to everyone outside of McKinley, he played the role of Brittney Pierce's wonderful boyfriend. He wasn't happy about it. God, he wished he didn't want to do it, but he had no choice.

"That's different. I'm only doing that to keep them off my back. If you haven't noticed, they're pretty overbearing."

"Ah, I see."

They ended up sitting at the exact spot where Mercedes initially wanted to sit. But it didn't make Mercedes feel better. She was tense. She constantly looked behind her to see if anyone else entered the cafeteria; she would do this a few times, but then decided to stop. She didn't want to appear rude, but she was understandably paranoid. Emma and Sue, and maybe Dave, would have a stroke if they saw Mercedes sitting with Sam.

Granted, they were eating lunch in a cafeteria that sadly resembled the one back in high school, but still.

Mercedes mumbled a thanks when Sam pulled out a chair for her. She glanced back for the last time- she swore it would be- and this time, the janitor who suddenly stopped mopping got her attention.

He looked confused, as if he couldn't understand what was going on in front of him. Mercedes narrowed her eyes then sighed. It wasn't worth it trying to start with the janitor. His reaction was normal. She was about to mention it to Sam and perhaps persuade the man to let her eat by herself, but soon realized that Sam was too busy digging into his food to even pay the janitor any mind. She wondered if Sam was oblivious to the strange looks that Ms. Lucy and the janitor were giving him or he just didn't care. Something told her, it was most likely the latter.

"How was your show on Tuesday night?"

Sam slowly put his fork down, swallowed his food and responded in a quiet voice. "It was fine. We sounded good and the audience looked happy. Dave didn't request to have our heads on the platter-" He shrugged. "So, I say it was good."

"Where did you have it?"

"In Yonkers."

"Where is that?"

"In Westchester, right above the Bronx."

"Is it nice there?"

"It's okay."

Mercedes watched Sam intently as he finished his mashed potatoes. So Brittany might have been right after all; Sam did not seem as passionate about being a part of the one of the most of popular bands in the country as one might think. The tone of his voice made it seemed like he only thought that working at McKinley was like working at a regular nine-to-five job.

She took a bit of her biscuit and leaned in. "Tell me about New Directions."

Sam stared at Mercedes, wondering if he even wanted to talk about New Directions, even for a short time. It wasn't his favorite topic to divulge in. He had to talk enough about the group in interviews and newspaper articles. He sighed. "What do you want to know?"

"Everything."

Sam cracked a smile. "Mercy, don't you think that's a little _vague_?"

"I'm not picky. I'm only curious to know about the band Time Magazine has referred to as the 'American Beatles.'"

Sam remembered reading that article. Dave had made everyone in New Directions, and most likely all of McKinley, read it. The manager was so proud- Sam didn't understand why. He didn't see the appeal of being compared to a British band.

"Well, to start off, there are four of us. Finn's the leader singer. Artie plays the bass. Rory's at the drums and I play the guitar

"Electric or acoustic?"

"Depends on the song, but I prefer acoustic." Sam teasingly reached over to grab a piece of ham from Mercedes' plate and mockingly pouted when she slapped his hand away. "Dave Karofsky is our manager. I'm sure you've met him."

"I have…" Mercedes cut a piece of ham and place it on Sam's plate, earning her a wide smile from her companion. She shook her head and lowly chuckled. She couldn't blame him for wanting more, the food was delicious. "He has a very _pleasant_ personality."

Sam snorted, catching Mercedes' sarcasm. "Yeah he does, but he gets the job done. Do the Limettes have a manager now?"

"Yes, her name is Holly Holliday. She seems nice, a bit crazy, but nice." She did not comment on the odd expression on Sam's face. She had heard about Holly's previous trysts with the company, but apparently they were only rumors. "Where are you from, if you don't mind me asking?"

"Tennessee."

"I've never been there," Mercedes said before taking a sip of her water. "The farthest South I've ever been was D.C." She paused. "So you're from Tennessee and you've come all the way to New York to get a record deal? I'm pretty sure that distance is longer than from Ohio to New York."

Sam shrugged. He didn't think much of it. "This city has a lot of record companies."

"Why didn't you go to Memphis? Isn't Cadillac Records there? It's a hell of a lot closer."

Sam gave Mercedes a small smile. That was exactly what his mother had said. "Why didn't you do go to Motown Records? Detroit's a lot closer to Ohio than New York."

"Oh shut up," Mercedes rolled her eyes in mock annoyance. "And consider yourself lucky I'm feeling generous today. I should tell Emma that you said the name of the company that shall not be named."

"Wow, she's still serious about that, huh?" Sam laughed finding the entire thing ridiculous. Yes, Motown and McKinley were rivals, but was it that bad that no one in this building was allowed to say Motown's name? Sam didn't think so. "To answer your question, Billy was the reason why I came to this city. He recruited me right out of Nashville."

"You're from Nashville?"

"Right outside of it," Sam continued. "It was an accident. See, I didn't plan on becoming a singer. I liked to sing and all, enjoy it even, but I was more of a football person. Where I'm from, everyone's a football person. I wouldn't mind playing it for the rest of my life. I was really thinking about working hard enough to make it into the pros, but around that time, Billy just happened to show up in Nashville for a blues concert. I was in the city only to audition for a musical that I'd promised my mother's friend I would participate in."

"Billy was impressed that a football player could sing?"

"Maybe." Sam slightly blushed while Mercedes couldn't keep the smile off her face, trying not chuckle. He couldn't blame her; he didn't know of any football players who would be willing to audition for a musical. "He auditions were at the same place where the concert was going to take place, Billy arrived there early- and well, you can guess what happened afterward."

"Why did you join McKinley then, if you wanted to do football?"

"I thought it would be… different, maybe a little exciting." He sighed. Sam hated that question. Not many people asked it, thank God, but it still made him think about what his life could have been if he had just listened to his coach. "But- you want to know the truth? I needed the money, my family needed the money." He paused. "I know this may sound bad, but my dad ain't around so I'm the breadwinner. I'm earning a lot more than I could've earned back home. I get to send money back to them each month, if I can, every two weeks."

"I understand." Mercedes and Sam did not say anything else as they continued to eat their meals. Mercedes was about to ask Sam about question, most likely about his family, but then realized something. She looked up and smiled widely. "You know what? This may be a bit off topic, but I can't help but notice that you've been switching accents during our little conversation."

"I have?"

"Oh yes."

"Well, I'll be damned." Sam leaned back and let out a whole hearted laugh. "I didn't even notice that. I'm sorry; it comes out here and there. It gets on Dave's last nerves. He's been trying to get to sound normal for the press, but it's not working as well as he would like. I've lived in Tennessee all my life. My accent ain't- isn't going anywhere."

"My mama used to slap on the wrist everything time I said, ain't." Mercedes let out a humorless laugh, remembering those times. "My parents, they had respectable jobs. My dad is- was a manager of a steel plant and my mama is a nurse. They wanted our family to sound like we have money, so they made me and my older brother take this class that taught 'proper' English."

"How long did it take you to speak properly?"

"Ten long years. I guess the class was beneficial. My mama claims that I now like a well-raised woman from a good family." She looked down and was surprised to see that she was nearly done with her meal. She couldn't remember eating most of it. "I want to thank you again for treating me to lunch. I do appreciate it."

"No problem, Mercy." He grinned at Mercedes' slightly annoyed face when he called her by her nickname. "Mercedes."

Mercedes tried to hide a small smile as she finished the last of her meal. She had to admit, this lunch was nice even with the janitor and Ms. Lucy staring at the two singers as if they came from outer space.

"We should do this again, but I'll make sure you pay for your own meal if it makes you happy."

"It would. If we're going do this, we need to meet up right before everyone comes," Mercedes, not completely understanding why she was even agreeing to this. What would her band mates say if they found out? What would Holly say? "We can lunch a few times, but as friends of course."

"I wouldn't suggest anything different."

Friends. They could be friends. There was nothing wrong with being just friends. Men and women became friends all the time.


	6. Chapter 6

**CHAPTER FIVE**

"I think it would be a good idea if the Limettes opened up for the Cheerios next Friday," Billy Johnson announced, trying not to be fazed by the looks of horror on the Limettes and the Cheerios' manager. He thought it would be a great marketing idea to have a joint performance especially with the success of the Limettes' first single. He was beaming with joy when he saw the charts listing on the newspaper. It seemed like his gamble was finally paying off. "They will only be opening for the Cheerios of course, but-"

"Is there any other group the Limettes can open for?" Holly asked, not really caring if she had just cut off her boss' statement. His "good" idea was a very bad idea in her book, and from the way Sue was looking at Billy, the manager of the Cheerios would certainly agree with her. "Aren't Kitty and Marley performing at Radio City Music Hall the week after next?"

"Do the Limettes really need a performance?" Sue asked, getting irritated by the second. "They only have one song."

Holly glared at Sue. Yes, the Limettes had one song, but their one song landed the number two spot on the charts. That wasn't something a new manager could downplay.

Holly had to admit. She was pretty surprised when she saw the weekly charts this morning. She had expected 'Then He Kissed Me' to at least make the top ten list, but not actually reached number two, with the possibility of jumping to the number one spot by next week. Holly was so excited; she had called the Limettes as soon as she finished reading and throughout the entire phone call, all she could were shots and cheers.

Of course not everyone was thrilled about the Limettes' first single reaching that high. Sue had looked like she was about to have an aneurysm when she saw the week chars listing- Holly wasn't going to admit anytime that Sue's angry/confused/surprised expression was the highlight of her morning. Apparently, Dave was pretty unhappy about the news too, though Holly couldn't figure out why. Dave was the manager of New Directions; New Directions was an all-male group, an extremely successful one at that. Why should he worry about the Limettes?

(Perhaps Dave's anger had more to do with the rumors spreading around McKinley about his extra-curricular activities rather than the success of 'Then He Kissed Me.' According to Brittany, rumor had it that Dave and Kurt might be secretly sleeping together. Holly vowed to look further into this rumor that might not be a rumor after all.)

"Yes, they are. And Sue, yes they do," Billy responded. "But-" He let out an aspirated breath. This shouldn't be a hard request. All of the other managers would have agreed with him in a heartbeat, but then again the other managers weren't Holly Holliday and Sue Sylvester. "The Limettes song landed the number three spot on the charts," Billy pointed out, holding the newspaper up as evidence. "People are going to want to see them live."

"And they can," Sue said. "But not with my Cheerios. We don't share a performance with any group, especially _them_. Let them open for Kitty and Marley, I don't care. Hell, you can let them open for New Directions. But I rather stab myself than travel with a novice group that only has one hit that couldn't reach number one."

"For once I have to agree with her to a certain extent," Holly added, still glaring at Sue. "It would be nice to have a performance without worrying about a ten-foot tall witch breathing down me and my girls' necks."

"Excuse me?"

Holly raised an eyebrow, mocking Sue's enraged expression. So maybe she was playing with fire; Sue didn't play. But now it was her responsibility to make the Limettes as successful as possible and if that meant finding any way to knock Sue and the Cheerios off their pedestal, then so be it.

Billy Johnson sighed. It was no use. Sue wasn't going to budge, and Holly wasn't feeling the idea any more than Sue. Now that he thought about it, maybe it wasn't a good idea for the Limettes to have a show with the Cheerios. He had heard about the "fight" between Quinn and Santana, and the heightened tension between Holly and Sue. Having an argument and/or fight break out between the two groups would not bring good publicity to McKinley.

And the manager of the singing duo, Kitty and Marley, was more tolerant to deal with than Sue. The Limettes didn't need to deal with angry rivals at the very beginning of their careers. "Fine, I'll contact Kitty and Marley's manager. He should be fine with this _arrangement_."

* * *

Holly had initially planned to take the Limettes out the dinner tomorrow night. She had wanted to congratulate them on their early success and discuss some matters regarding a potential album, that was until Billy dropped a bomb this morning by stating that he wanted the Limettes to open up for another McKinley act. And now, she had to push everything back and start preparing for the performance right at this moment.

The Limettes were home when she called them in for a meeting at McKinley. Holly had given them a day off so they could catch up on things such as furnishing their apartment and buying new clothes.

"I'm so sorry for the short notice," Holly said, sitting down at the table. They were in the cafeteria, eating a small breakfast. Holly offered to buy and even through the girl group (Mercedes) had protested against it. "But we have some things to discuss that can't wait until tomorrow night."

The Limettes glanced at each other fearing the worst.

Holly let a small chuckle. "Guys, you're not in trouble or anything." She smiled widely. "Actually, I am here with very good news, but first and foremost, I want to congratulate all three of you for your success. This is a wonderful way to start off your musical careers.

"Thank you," the Limettes said in unison.

"Oh, there's no reason to say thanks. You guys did this." Holly gave her group a proud look then took a sip of her coffee. "Billy was so impressed that he decided that you three should open for a musical act the week after next. You've met Kitty and Marley, right?"

The Limettes nodded. They only met the duo Monday and it was only for a few minutes. Kitty had looked like she was in a rush. She had only said hello before running to the other side of the hall just to talk to Quinn who had just happened to walk past them, being followed by Finn begging her to do something. Marley had seemed nice enough. She had congratulated the Limettes on getting a record deal and offered to have dinner with them someday.

"Great. You'll be performing at Radio City Music Hall." Holly smirked as the Limettes gasped. "I know. It's a larger venue than what most people start with, but Billy thinks you can handle it and so do I. He initially wanted you to open for the Cheerios, but as you can imagine, Sue wasn't hearing it."

Mercedes snorted. She was just about had it with Sue's attitude towards the Limettes. The girl group had been nothing but respectful to the Cheerios manager, and what did they get in return? Snide remarks, racist jokes and petty threats. "Sue doesn't want to have anything to do with us."

"I wouldn't worry about Sue I were you. She had her own drama to deal with when it comes to the Cheerios," Holly said rolling her eyes. Sue was like a rash on her side that refused to go away. "She's only bitter because you guys did better than most people thought you would. She'll get over It, but I highly advise you three to say as far away from Sue as possible. She's not in the best of moods."

"I can't blame her for being bitter," Santana said smirking. It brought her joy that Sue was fuming over their successful. It served her right for taunting the Limettes. She wished that she had arrived at McKinley earlier just to see Sue's face. She would have brought a camera (with the little money she had), taken a photo, framed it and hanged it right next to her bed. "I would be mad too if another girl group scored number two on their first try."

"I'm glad about the success, but we didn't hit number one," Tina mumbled. She knew she should be grateful. Now, she could take a chance to call her parents without them accusing her to being a failure of a daughter. But with a number one hit; they wouldn't be able to say a thing.

Mercedes rubbed Tina's shoulders. Her band mate had not been about to call her parents in almost a month and she took it hard. "We'll get there, Tina. I promise." Mercedes looked at her manager. "For this performance, we will only be singing one song?"

"Thank you for asking. No, I have talked to Puck about letting you guys record one more song or two if time allows it. Will will give you more details about that later." Holly took another sip of her coffee. "Since the performance is the week after next week, and it will be your first performance signed to McKinley Records, your schedules will be rigorous for this week and the week. Our goal is to have two new songs recorded in the next several days. I've arranged everything with Puck, so you'll be fine. Also, you will be having two sessions with Mike, one in the morning following your sessions with Shannon, and one in the evening. Practices for the show will be held with Will following lunch. After we finish this talk, the three of you will meet with Kurt who will figure out what your outfits will be. In addition, your sessions with Sugar will be longer, just to brush up on some things you have already learned in the past few weeks. Do you have any questions?"

The Limettes did not say anything. They only stared at their manager as if she had just described a new top secret mission. They had never seen- rather heard a schedule like this before. They were used to doing gigs here and there, and practicing songs and dances in the Jones family's living room. The girl group glanced at each other and gulped; this seemed like the real deal. They were actually going to perform in front of an audience as an official musical act.

Holly gave the trio a reassuring smile. The Limettes looked so- overwhelmed. Her intentions were not to scare the girl group to death; she only wanted to tell them like it was. "I know it may seem a lot, but we have to prepare you for your first performance. You will be opening up a show, so you all need to come out with a bang." She paused. "After you meet with Kurt, you'll be free for the rest of the day. I expect you to be back at McKinley tomorrow at 7:00am. There's much to do." She took a dramatic pause. "You're free to go."

As the Limettes said their goodbyes and started to leave the cafeteria, Holly remembered something that Emma had said something to her earlier about what Ms. Lucy had seen last week. Holly honestly didn't think it was a big deal; it involved two grown people having lunch together for heaven's sake, not a date. But she had promised Emma to talk to Mercedes about it.

She certainly did not miss this part of her former job.

"Mercedes, honey, do you mind staying back for a minute?" Holly called out. She slightly frowned when she noticed that Mercedes froze then gave her a puzzled look before slowly sitting down. Holly waved Tina and Santana goodbye as the duo gave Holly and Mercedes alarmed looks. "Don't worry you're not in trouble," Holly assured. "At least not yet."

Mercedes gulped. She tried to hide her fear, but she couldn't help it. She wasn't even here for a month and she had already messed up. Mercedes bit her lip; she couldn't think of anything she had done that would cause for alarm. She was careful to make sure that any action she did would not jeopardize her career. She was not going back to Ohio anytime soon. "What- what did I do?"

Holly took a muffin from her purse and split it in half with a knife. She took a bite before answering. "Well, I heard from a very reliable source, and don't worry, it's not Brittany, that you are becoming well acquainted with a certain member of New Directions." She gave Mercedes a look. "If you get my drift."

Mercedes cursed under her breath. She knew this was going to happen. She had told Sam numerous times that this was going to happen. But no, he said it would all be fine. She promised herself to give him an earful the next time she saw him. "There is nothing going on between me and Sam. We're only friends."

And Holly couldn't accuse her of lying. Mercedes was stating the truth. Yes, Sam had asked her on something resembling a date- quite a few times actually. However, she had declined each time, saying that they would only have a platonic relationship. It wasn't that she would mind spending time with Sam outside the cafeteria, but she wanted to avoid the very problem she was about to be lectured about.

"Like I haven't heard that one before…"

"I know, but I'm serious," Mercedes insisted. Oh yes, she was definitely going to have a little talk with Sam. "We only see each other at noon, before everyone comes to the cafeteria so we can have the best food. I swear to God, we don't see each other before or after that."

Holly sighed. She didn't want Mercedes to think that she was some racist who had an issue with two people with vastly different skin tones talking to each other. And she wished Emma didn't make such a big deal about it, but from a public relations perspective, she understood Emma's worry. "Look, I can personally careless what you do with that boy, but the public and most people at McKinley do not feel the same way. The last thing you need is to mess up your career before it starts became of some controversy."

"Are you suggesting that I should stop having lunch with Sam?"

Holly gave Mercedes a long look. Mercedes was a smart. That one of the many qualities she liked about Mercedes. Surely, the leader of the Limettes could see what the whole issue behind befriending someone who wasn't her race. People would jump into conclusions and complain about how that wasn't socially acceptable- and that was something no manager wanted with deal with.

"I would, but I know how you young people are. You guys never listen to adults until it's too late." She took a couple of bites of her muffins and finished her coffee. "I'm just- just be careful, okay? That's all I ask. I'm sure you're aware of Sue's lovely match making plans from Hell. She's determined to get Sam and Brittany married. And a determine Sue is a dangerous and annoying Sue. And I don't even want to begin on Dave…"

"I will be."

"Try to keep your interactions with Sam to a minimum." Holly did not say anything else as she finished her muffin. She wiped her mouth with a napkin before saying, "I have to leave now, and I believe you have to meet up with Kurt soon. I will see you tomorrow. Have a great day."

Mercedes rose from her seat and walked out of the cafeteria as soon as Holly was out of sight. She groaned when she saw Tina and Santana standing next to the door. It was nice for them to wait for her, but they were going to be asking questions and Mercedes really did not want to talk about the little mini talk she had with their manager.

"What did Holliday say?"

"Was it anything bad?"

Mercedes shook her head and began walking down the hall. "No. She just gave me a little lecture about how spending time with Sam was bad for publicity.

Santana rolled her eyes.

Tina snorted. "Well duh, I could have told you that."

Mercedes briefly stopped and gave Tina a mean look. This was not what she wanted to hear at this moment. "Your comments aren't helping."

Tina shrugged. "Well I'm sorry, but you can't honestly be surprised. I told you it was a bad idea from the very beginning."

"_Thank you_, Tina."

Santana rolled her eyes again. "I, for one, don't see a problem with you having lunch with Sam. It's lunch. It's not like you're replacing Brittany's role as his girlfriend."

"But you would like that. Wouldn't you, Santana?" Tina mumbled. She nearly laughed when Santana gave her a dirty look. "I'm just kidding."

"I'm not even going to get into that," Mercedes started off. "But anyway, don't worry. This problem will be solved by tomorrow. I'm going to talk to Sam and tell him that we need to stop interacting with each other. I don't want to create any drama. We've only been here for just over three weeks. I want to enjoy my time here, become successful. If Holly and everyone want me to stop being friends with Sam, then fine. I will."

* * *

"Hello, is anyone here?" Mercedes called out, walking into the room belonging to Kurt Hummel. She smiled at the sight of the stylist trying to roll out a cart that was easily twice his size. She wasn't going to wait for Tina and Santana who decided to go back to the cafeteria. She would be too tempted to try that apple pie that was sitting at the edge of the food counter.

Kurt stopped rolling the chart out full of dresses and smiled widely at Mercedes. "And how are you doing, Diva?"

"You need to stop calling me Diva." Mercedes laughed and gave Kurt a hug. He was beginning to become her favorite non-Limette (and non- New Directions, but she wasn't going to go into that) employee. "Look at you, all smiling and stuff. Did something _exciting_ happen?"

"If you had my job, Diva, you would be smiling too."

If someone had asked Kurt Hummel if he was satisfied with the way his life was heading, he would most likely say yes. Sure, he had to encounter some obstacles, deal with people who had no other purpose on this planet but to be ignorant and put up with the occasional relationship and familial drama. But Kurt believed that he was at a good place in his life. He was in the largest and most fabulous city in the United States. He was dressing some of the biggest singing groups in the country; all he had to do was launch a high-end fashion line and all of his professional aspirations would be complete.

Kurt simply _loved_ his job. There was nothing better than doing something that he loved and getting paid for it. He wasn't the richest person in McKinley, but considering that many people back in home in Baltimore thought he wasn't going to be anyone important, he thought he was doing on hell of a job.

And he got to have access to all of the exclusive parties, and not to mention, exclusive drama.

Kurt was happy, no satisfied with his life.

(He couldn't say the same for the rest of the people at McKinley Records, but that was another story.)

Kurt supposed that he would be _happy_ with his life if people didn't make such a big deal about him not being intimate with the female population. He couldn't understand why some thought being gay was something new and rare. (He could understand way some people thought it was _wrong_ based on their religious convictions, not to say that he supported their stances. But he could understand.) Kurt could write an entire book on actors, actresses and performers who preferred their own gender. Heck, he could write a book based on the people working at McKinley alone.

Kurt didn't see any point in hiding his sexuality. Yes, society and did not like it and homosexulaity was cosidered a mental illness, but he couldn't help it. He liked men; he always did, and he always would. And if anyone had an issue with that, it was a free country, they could have their own opinions, but Kurt just wouldn't care about them. He had learned to ignore all of the insults from others. Kurt was used to receiving threats and offers to go to a mental hospital from Sue (and initially Emma, but she seemed to have calmed down a bit) so the doctors could cure his "disease," but-

If Kurt wanted to be honest, and for the most part, he was, Sue shouldn't be the one to talk about going to mental hospitals. If there was someone who needed to be institutionalized, it should be here. She seemed to be living in delusion world for the best few years, thinking that she ran McKinley when she was only a manager. And CIA connections? Ha! Kurt highly doubted that she had any; Sue was known for using lies as scare tactics.

"Where is the rest of the group?" Kurt asked pulling out the dresses he specially designed for the Limettes.

He enjoyed dressing all of McKinley's groups, but he loved dealing with the Limettes the best. The three women were all different physically and style wise. Santana was the wild one, Tina was the safe one and Mercedes was in between. Unlike the other groups, Holly did not care much for matching outfits; as long as the dresses had some resemblance to each other she was fine.

Mercedes glanced into the hall. That was a good question. What was taking them so long? Santana said they would be back in five minutes. "Tina wanted ice cream, and Santana saw Brittany walk into the cafeteria- and well, you know how that goes…"

"Ice cream before a seeing a stylist," Kurt commented, shaking his head. "I'm confused. How does she think eating ice cream is a good idea? Shannon and Emma would have a heart attack."

Mercedes wondered the same thing, but she didn't press the issue.

"How what brings you into McKinley today?" Kurt asked. "I was surprised when Holly said she wanted the three of you to meet with me. I thought she gave you guys a day off?"

"She did, but Holly had called us in early for a meeting. We're going to open for Kitty and Marley next week." Mercedes nearly jumped in excitement. "Can you believe it, Kurt? And to top it off, our song reached number two!"

"Congratulations to you and the Limettes, Mercedes. You three deserve especially after dealing with Sue and her craziness."

"Oh God, don't make me get started on her." Mercedes was about to say something but something, rather things, caught her eye. She smirked at Kurt, who did not notice because he was too busy arranging the dresses. She talked to one of his desks and lifted up the box of chocolates and flowers. "Oh, it looks like you have a new admirer." She gave Kurt a mocked hurt expression. "Have you been keeping secrets from me, Kurt Hummel? I thought we were friends?"

"Oh darn it," Kurt said throwing up his arms in a dramatic fashion. This was why he should put things away. "I knew I should've hidden that."

Mercedes' smirk grew. "Care to explain?"

"There's nothing to explain."

"Who is he?"

"I don't know what you're talking about, there's no he." Kurt frowned a bit. He thought about dragging Mercedes from that area, but he realized that there was no way he was getting out of this without spilling some beans. "What makes you think it's a he?"

Mercedes rolled her eyes and smelled the flowers. Whoever this person was, he or she, not it was he sure knew how to pick out some nice flowers. She wondered if he was good at choosing chocolates as he was with flowers. "Kurt, you know and I know you wouldn't save anything from your lady admirers. Oh my, please don't tell me this is from Blaine."

"_Oh God no_, been there done that." Kurt groaned. He really should stop telling Mercedes about all of his relationship issues. He had only known her for a few weeks and she already she already knew about the insanity that was he love life. "I'm not going down _that_ road again."

"So who is it from?" Mercedes asked, taking a piece of chocolate. She knew Kurt wouldn't mind that much. He had been giving her anything sweet he could find for the past week- something about avoiding anything with sugar. "And don't you dare lie to me. If you haven't noticed, you're a horrible liar."

"Am not."

"Your nose flares when you lie."

"No, it doesn't."

"Yes, it does. You just don't want to admit it." Mercedes took another piece of chocolate. Well, it was decided, this mystery man definitely had good taste in chocolates. "So spill."

"You wouldn't believe me if I told you."

"Trust me when I say, I think I've heard worse." Mercedes replied, thinking about the supposed love triangle between Santana, Brittany and Puck. She didn't even want to dwell into that mess. "Much worse."

"Oh no, I can assure you, you haven't."

"Okay ,fine. I stop asking," Mercedes said, realizing that Kurt was not going to tell her anything. "But will you at least tell me if this- whatever manifests into some sort of romance. I would love to hear about people whose love life is a heck of a lot better than mine."

"Of course, Diva… Speaking of romance," Kurt said, snatching the box of chocolates from Mercedes who pouted in return. He had planned to give her some because he was well aware of Mercedes' weakness for chocolates, but now he wasn't too sure. Maybe he would give him to Brittany. He knew she would appreciate them. "Has Sam finally professed his unconditional love for you yet?"

Mercedes rolled her eyes. Kurt would not stop teasing her about that. "Shut up Kurt, you know it's not like that."

"That's not what Brittany told me…"

"And exactly _what_ did Brittany tell you?"

"Oh nothing much, just that you two have been eating lunch together at the cafeteria for the past week." Kurt laughed at Mercedes' horrified face. "Oh, don't worry. Brittany only talks to me about your budding relationship with Sam."

"How assuring," Mercedes mumbled looking around the room. She noticed and pointed at a dress that was noticeably larger than the rest, but certainly not big enough for her- or she though. "Please, do not tell me that dress is for me."

Kurt blinked then looked at the dress Mercedes was talking about. He blinked again, not understanding the issue and replied with, "Of course it is. It's for the performance at Radio City. Holly wanted to make sure that you, Santana and Tina wore dresses that can- bring attention to yourselves." He shrugged. "I think they're cute."

"You know I can't fit that?"

"Why not? I got all of the measurements right."

"I know but," Mercedes frowned. "I know it would look odd on me… that's not something one with my body type wears. It's for skinny people, and I am… I'm fat."

Kurt groaned and rolled his eyes. He couldn't believe he was about to go into this yet again. He had told Mercedes many times that she looked fine. It was Emma's fault; he concluded. Emma had to tell everyone about the importance of having the "right" figure. "You're not fat. You're curvaceous. That's two different things. Honey, do you know much money women spend to have something you naturally have? Embrace those curves."

Mercedes was going to protest, but then saw Tina and Santana at the door. "Hey, you guys…"

"This conversation is not over," Kurt whispered to Mercedes and Tina and Santana walked in. He put on his best smile. "Welcome ladies!" He called out before giving Santana and Tina a hug. "Congrats on the success of your new song! And your new gig. Opening for an act at the Radio City Music Hall is wonderful!"

"Thank you," Tina and Santana said in unison.

"I hope you two didn't start without us," Tina said, looking through the rack of dresses. She hadn't seen so many pretty (and designer) clothes in her life. Her mother would have a heart attack from joy if she was here; she always loved to shop.

"Of course not." Kurt stopped and faced the Limettes. "I'm so glad that you three are here. We have lots to do and so little time. We need to make sure you look absolutely fabulous for your first performance."

"I need to have what he's having," Santana muttered to Mercedes as she walked further into the room. She watched in amazement (and perhaps with fright) while Kurt literally waltzed to one of his big closets. "Is he… okay?"

Tina glanced back and giggled.

Mercedes lightly pinched Santana on the arm. "He's Kurt. That's how he is."

* * *

Sue Sylvester was proud to say that she had the ability to turn a trio of girls from the Midwest into superstars in a matter of one year. She only expected the best of the best from her girls and besides some setbacks throughout the years, the Cheerios had done everything she had wanted. The Cheerios had numerous number one hits; their tours were always sold out and they were a household name.

The lead singer of the Cheerios was Rachel Berry, a Jewish woman (and Sue didn't let Rachel forget that) from Chicago who had some of the best vocals McKinley had ever seen. She was a star on stage, but off of it, not so much. She spent more time with Will and Puck trying to improve anything Cheerio related, which Sue had to admit was a good thing; she only wished some other singers would have as much dedication to their work as Rachel. However, like Sue had said more times than she could count, there was more to be a star than singing on stage a star had to shine both on stage and in the open public- the media loved that. Rachel still seemed not to understand that fact, so Sue had decided to find another way to attract to the media to the Cheerios.

That was where Quinn Fabray came in.

Unlike Rachel and to a lesser extent, Brittany, Quinn lived for the public spotlight. She craved for attention and recognition for her musical talent; although Rachel was officially the leader of the singing group, most people knew more about Quinn's singing and her activities. Sue thought Quinn was the perfect All-American girl. She had the looks, she had the talent and she had style to make it big in the music business.

Quinn enjoyed her reputation. She had scored many magazine covers because of her fame such as _Vogue_ and _Harper's Bazaar_. She didn't mind the paparazzi and invasive questions during interviews as much as Rachel. She just thought being bombarded by the media was the price of becoming a celebrity. Quinn loved to be well-known and loved. She loved the fact she could practically go to ever club and restaurant and expect top-notch service.

Of course there were times when Quinn thought that Sue might be going overboard with public image. She was not one hundred percent on board with dating Finn just to make the media go crazy. Finn was one of the most immature people she knew and to top it off, he had some unsolved drama with Rachel. But she didn't protest as openly as Brittany. Quinn wasn't dumb. She knew that she might have to do some things she might not like to keep her job; she was in a very competitive market. Everyone wanted to be on top and in order to stay relevant, Quinn had to give what McKinley wanted.

Unlike Brittany, Quinn was not in McKinley to make friends. She was here to become famous and no one, not Billy, not Emma, not Finn, not her band mates and certainly not the Limettes were going to stop her.

Quinn deeply scowled at herself through her mirror. She could not believe that _that_ group had managed to break the Top Ten List with _her_ song. Sure had assured the Cheerios that the Limettes' new single was going to flop, not achieve early success with a recycled song.

This was all Puck's fault.

"I still think you should be a little nicer to the Limettes. There is no reason to ask God to strike them down. They haven't done anything wrong."

"We are not here to play nice, Brittany," Quinn responded as she put some eyeliner on. She had to meet up with Finn Hudson for a date in twenty minutes, and she was not even close to ready. But she had decided that it was better to be a little late than be early and look like a hot mess. She needed to look perfect, not necessarily for Finn, but for the paparazzi that was sure to spot them. "We are in a war. We cannot let our guard down for anyone, especially them."

"I know but they're not our competition. They don't sing pop" Brittany reasoned, not completely understanding Quinn's war reference. They only war she knew about was taking place on the other side of the world. There weren't any guns and missiles at McKinley, and she was definitely not a soldier. "They sing black people music."

What was that genre called? The answer slipped out of Brittany's mind.

"I don't care if they sing folk songs. Did you not see the charts? 'Then He Kissed Me' debuted at number two. Two!" She crossed her arms and deepened her scowl. "They are our competition, and we must keep our distance from them. That means no mingling with the enemy, Brittany. You know Sue won't approve."

"Sue doesn't approve of anything…"

"She doesn't approve of anything that can jeopardize our careers, dear." Quinn put the eyeliner back inside her makeup pouch and reached for the mascara. She gave Brittany, who was slightly frowning at her, a quick glance then slammed her fists on her desk. "_My God_, Brittany. You don't understand, do you?"

"No, I perfectly understand," Brittany mumbled. She pouted then decided to ignore Quinn who was hiding numerous suspicious dark spots on her forearms with power. Brittany wasn't going to mention anything; it would only lead into another fight. But- but Quinn had promised her and Rachel that she was going to be clean; she was going to stop injecting that _stuff _into her body. "But that doesn't give us the right to act nasty to them."

"You poor naïve soul, you will find out soon enough." Quinn slowly smirked at her band mate then sighed. In all honesty, she should not be worried about the Limettes. So what if their single did very well? Many did well on the charts in the beginning then fall off the face of the planet. The Limettes wouldn't be able to compete with the Cheerios, no matter how much they tried. The Cheerios were on top; they _owned_ the charts. "Enough about the Limettes. Finn is taking me to a movie and then dinner. You and Sam are welcomed to join. It can be like a little double date."

Brittany fought back the urge to roll her eyes. Quinn was well aware of her relationship Sam- if she could call it that. They were friends, nothing more, nothing less. And from that she'd heard from Ms. Lucy, it appeared that Sam had his sights on another woman.

"Thanks for the offer, but I think I'll pass. I'm going to a Broadway show with Rachel tonight. And Sam- I'm sure he's busy with… stuff."

"Well then…" Quinn said, not understanding why Brittany was so opposed to being with Sam. Sure, the relationship was practically forced on her band mate, but it wasn't like he was a bad guy. And they looked cute together. "Enjoy your play, and make sure you don't mention to Berry about me going out with Finn tonight. You know how she gets."

Quinn ignored Brittany's snort. It wasn't Quinn's fault that she had to make sure she couldn't talk about Finn in Rachel's presence. She didn't ask Berry to have a borderline obsession with the lead singer of New Directions. One would think that Rachel would leave Fin alone after he had said numerous times, in front of other people, that they were no longer together.

Quinn pushed the thought of Rachel and Finn out of her mind as she finally put on one of her favorite dresses. It was a nice black and white dress- perhaps a bit fancy for the movies, but Quinn didn't care. She had to look on point no matter where she went. Next, she put on black heels and took out a diamond and pearl necklace given to her by Puck on her twentieth birthday. Brittany reluctantly agreed with Quinn asked to assist her with the jewelry. The dancer took the necklace, draped it along her band mate's neck and proceeded to clasp the ends together.

Quinn watched Brittany's movements through the mirror. She ran her fingers along the pearl strand, stopping at the medium sized diamond in the middle. She loved this necklace. She would wear it every day if she had the choice. She had to commend Puck, if there was one thing he was good at besides making women drop their panties, it was choosing jewelry.

"Don't you find it weird that you're wearing a necklace given by your ex on a date with another man?"

Quinn slightly glared at Brittany. Of course she would mention; Brittany always loved to mention anything relating to her rendezvous with Puck. She dropped her hands on her lap and folded them. "No, not at all. Why should I? Diamonds are a girl's best friend, dear. I should be able to wear them whenever I please."

"If you say so."

"And for the record, Puck was not my ex," Quinn pointed out in a harsh voice as she reached for her pearl earrings. She had thought about wearing her diamond ones- another gift from Puck- but then decided that maybe it would be a little much. "We had a fling and it ended."

"Yes, a fling that lasted for over a year and a half. He bought you more than two million dollars' worth of jewelry," Brittany reminded Quinn who still believed that what she had with Puck was nothing significant. "He asked you to marry him- he got you pregnant for heaven's sake. You said that you would love to raise a family with him."

Quinn grabbed Brittany's wrist. "Don't you _dare_ talk about that ever again," she snapped before letting Brittany go. "Do you understand me, Brittany?"

"Yes."

Quinn and Puck only had a fling; that was all. At the time, Quinn was feeling lonely after her breakup with her boyfriend (who she still refused to talk about) and needed a companion. All she wanted was a man who could satisfy her and Puck, of course he was, was more than willing to comply with her demands. It wasn't Quinn's fault that Puck wanted to include emotions into their arrangement.

But Quinn would never admit to anyone or herself that if Puck asked her to marry him again, she would say yes.


	7. Chapter 7

**CHAPTER SIX**

"Tonight is going to be crazy. Everyone's already losing their minds," Marianne, one of the members of tonight's staff whispered to her friend, Lauren, as the two women checked to make sure all of the lights were working. They had to arrive to Radio City Music Hall two hours than previously scheduled to prepare for the highly anticipated show. "Let's hope that everything will turn out okay."

Lauren nodded as she looked over the light switches and tested the two main lights on the stage. "Yeah, let's hope or else Roberts will give all thirty of us an earful tomorrow. Though if you ask me, if something happens, which I hope doesn't, we can't receive all the blame. The bastard changed the line up _this_ morning."

"I know," Marianne mumbled. "I can't believe he did that. I know he changed it because of the construction taking place on Friday, but it's only minor. It has nothing to do with the stage or the seating area. I still don't understand why he couldn't move the group to next week."

"Because that would make too much sense," Lauren replied testing the last light. She put the check on the rather long checklist and sighed. "Come on, we still have much to do. We only have a half an hour before show time."

It was Wednesday night, the night where three groups, instead of two, would perform at Music City Hall. This was one of the biggest shows of the month. The show was completely booked. All tickets were sold out by the past Monday. The show was in such high demand that the management of the venue agreed to sell an extra hundred tickets. Those sold out as soon as news about the new addition to the lineup was announced.

The scene back stage was, to put it simply, chaotic. There were people running around in all directions trying to get everything ready for the show. The show coordinator and his assistant were pacing back and forth in front of the stage blocked from the public with large curtains, going through their checklists. As of this morning, there was a change in lineup for tonight's show, and it was the show coordinator's job to make sure everything ran smoothly without any incident.

The coordinator almost had a heart attack when he noticed that the old banner hanging on top of the stage was not replaced by the new one. He ordered his assistant to fix the problem immediately and look up at the banner with disappointment. The title for tonight's show was changed from "Kitty and Marley Featuring the Limettes" to "McKinley Night," to accommodate the recent changes. The door ticket price rose from eight dollars to eleven dollars for general admission, and fifteen dollars to twenty-five dollars for the V.I.P seats.

The coordinator did the best he could to make sure everything was right. Now he had to wait for the three acts, instead of two, to arrive here and get ready for what he assumed to be a very interesting night.

He nearly jumped ten feet when he heard his assistant calling his name. He composed himself, fixed his glasses that almost came off and said, "Did you do what I said?"

"Yes," the assistant replied, panting as if he had just run a mile. "James is going to replace the banner as soon as possible. Also, Elizabeth just informed me that Kitty and Marley has arrived."

"Good."

"Oh and Larry, you know the usher, wants to know if you want to have a 'colored' and 'whites' section for the general admissions, or do you want to mix it up."

The coordinator thought for a moment. He completely forgot about that. He was technically not supposed to encourage the separation of races in the general seats; that was what his boss had told him last week, but he didn't want to deal with any angry customers who didn't want to sit next to a person who didn't have the same skin tone as him. He already had enough on his plate.

"There's no need to force segregation," the coordinator decided rubbing his chin. "Chances are the white folks are going to sit with the white folks and the colored folks will do the same. This shouldn't be an issue." He paused. "Can you check on the two female acts and see if they're almost ready. The show's about to start."

"Yes, sir."

* * *

"I apologize for the lateness, ladies," Kurt said as he quickly entered the dressing room. He hastily shook the Limettes' hands. "Kitty had a fashion crisis. Apparently, she perferred to have three cups of red wine before going on stage and a whole bottle full of wine poured on her off-white dress." He shook his head while walking towards the back of the room. "Why would you have an open red wine bottle next to a white dress, I would never understand."

"It's fine," Mercedes said taking off she shoes. She motioned the rest of her group to do the same. "Do you know how much time do we have to get dress?"

"Only thirty minutes," Kurt said.

"That doesn't give us much time." Tina mumbled.

"No, it doesn't," Kurt rolled the cart of dresses from the back for the room. He had to hide it from any prying eyes just in case someone wanted to copy the Limettes' wardrobe- it had happened far too many times. He stopped the cart and quickly handed each woman her dress. "I had everything altered yesterday so unless you gained five pounds in a matter of twenty-four hours, there shouldn't be a problem."

Kurt brought a large suitcase from under the table and opened it revealing three boxes of shoes. "Here are the shoes. I have your names on each box so there won't be any mix ups."

He pulled out a small bag out the suitcase and placed it on the table. "Here is your makeup. I'm so sorry, but you're going to have to do it yourselves. I had requested Billy to have a makeup team for you ladies, but Billy only agreed to have one. The team is currently dealing with Kitty and Marley and it doesn't look like they'll be done any time soon."

Tina sighed in relief. She hated when other people did make up for her. Most times, they made her look like a geisha, which annoyed her because she wasn't even Japanese (Mercedes had told her many times that it wasn't a big deal and it wasn't intentional, but Tina didn't care). Tina preferred neutral tones and made sure she brought some make up with her tonight.

Mercedes was just glad that she had some eye shadow and lipstick with her.

"Don't worry about it," Santana said taking out her bright red lipstick out of her small purse. "All I have to do is put this baby on and have some mascara and I assure you, I'll get some numbers and marriage offers by the end of the night."

Kurt could not help but laugh.

Mercedes sighed. "Santana, we're here to put on a show, not pick up men."

"Or women," Tina added.

"Or women," Mercedes repeated shaking her head at Santana's craziness. "We're not here to pick up _anyone_."

"Look, don't hate. It's not my fault that I can attract both men _and_ women," Santana responded before sticking her tongue out childishly. She glanced at Kurt. "Kurt, honey, tell me that there's nothing with trying to look hot."

"Of course not, bonita."

Tina and Mercedes both shook their heads.

"Okay, ladies go get dressed," Kurt said clapping three times. "If you need any help putting on your dresses. I will help you out. Sometimes new dresses like to be a bitch." He chuckled at the look on the Limettes' face. "Oh my goodness, this is my job. I have done plenty of times so don't worry, I won't hit on you. You three are beautiful, but trust you don't have what I want."

Mercedes chuckled while she quickly undressed. "Kurt, you're a mess."

"You ladies love me for it."

"Of course we do," Tina commented as she put on her dress. She had to reach far behind to zip her dress. She blushed as Kurt rushed to her side to help her. "Thank you Kurt."

"No problemo."

After getting dressed, Mercedes carefully let her hair down from a bun. She lightly combed it so the curls did not mess up. Kurt had suggested to her earlier to wear a wig. Mercedes declined, although she knew that many performers wore wigs. Wigs were more of a nuisance to her and anyway, thanks to her hot comb and curling iron, she had a decent hairstyle.

"Santana, pass me the hairspray!" Tina shouted as she combed out her hair. She wanted her hair to have as much volume as possible especially on top of her head. Unfortunately, her long straight hair was not cooperating with her and it normally took a good twenty minutes to get something resembling a hair bump. She muttered a thanks as she caught the hairspray.

Santana decided to leave her hair be. She was not in the mood to play hair dresser, not tonight.

"I'm so excited for tonight," Kurt admitted. "I haven't been this excited for a show in years. You ladies are going to rock. I can feel it. Don't let the audience scare you though, many newbies get scared of a large audience. There's going to be over a thousand people out there, make believe you're only performing in an empty room. I heard it makes things easier, and-"

He stopped when the door opened revealing one of the employees. She apologized for her abrupt entrance and said, "Mr. Hummel, Kitty Wilde is demanding your presence. She doesn't like the way Michelle is doing her hair. According to her, she looks like a housewife."

Kurt blinked. He was used to dealing to demanding stars; he understood that it was a part of his job. But damn, that woman was getting on his last nerves. "How can she look like-?" He sighed. "Tell her I'll be there as soon as possible."

The employee nodded and left.

"And I thought Quinn was bad," Kurt muttered shaking his head. He looked at the Limettes apologetically. "Sorry, my dears, Queen Kitty is calling for me _yet_ again."

The Limettes waved Kurt goodbye as he left.

"That Kitty is something else," Tina commented. "I heard she's more of a diva than Quinn."

"Is that even possible?"

"Apparently, it is," Santana replied. "But enough about Kitty. I just realized that we're going to have to move the mics after the first song because we're gonna move more for 'Heat Wave,'" Santana said putting her lipstick on. She smacked her lips and winked at the mirror. "But we have to be graceful about it so it won't look awkward."

"Yeah."

"I think we should practice 'Heat Wave' one more time," Tina suggested. "This is going to be the first time an audience will hear the song. We can't mess up this one. Maybe if they like it, Heat Wave will reach number one two."

"Hell yeah," Santana gave Tina a high five. "Two back to back number ones. That will certainly shut some mouths up."

"I don't a problem with practicing one more time."

"You think we can practice on stage?" Tina asked. "The show doesn't start for another fifteen minutes."

"It's too late for that," Mercedes said. "I think we can practice in the hallway. I saw Kitty and Marley do that earlier."

"Okay, we should go right now then. We can't be late to our first late show."

Tina nodded. "I agree."

Mercedes glanced at her band mates. She still had to put her make up on. ""You two go on, I'll be out soon."

Tina and Santana nodded and left.

It didn't take Mercedes long to finish everything. She took one last glance at the mirror, took a deep breath and reminded herself she needed to calm her nerves. She was nervous, she tried to put on an appearance that she was fine, but she wasn't. According to Kurt, there would be over a thousand people attending this show; that was ten times the amount of people she was used to.

She took a deep breath, told herself that everything would be okay and walked out of the room.

"_Mercedes_!"

Mercedes turned around and her jaw dropped. There was Sam walking towards her with a wide grin on his face. She closed her eyes a few times to make sure she wasn't losing it but each time she reopened them, Sam was even closer with an _even_ wider grin.

She thought about going back into her dressing room, but then realized that Sam already saw her. She didn't want to look like she was running away.

Mercedes cursed under her breath.

They were supposed to avoid each other at all costs. That was what she told him last Friday. Mercedes didn't want to tell Sam that they couldn't hang out anymore. She honestly enjoyed their short lunches together, but she had no choice. Holly made it seemed like it was something she had to do. She was only signed to McKinley for about a month and she didn't want to deal with any drama because people had an issue with her saying a word to Sam. He had taken the news well, said that he could completely understand what Holly was coming from, but wished it wasn't this way. Mercedes had agreed but in the end she was almost glad Sam would be out of her life. Now she would be able to do her job with one less distraction.

Mercedes cursed again. So the avoiding plan couldn't even last a week. She crossed her arms and tried not to look as stunned as she still and said as soon as Sam reached her. "Hello, Sam."

"And how are you, Ms. Jones?"

Mercedes did not or at least tried not to sputter. "I'm fine…" she slowly said. She wondered if she was going crazy, perhaps hallucinating. She didn't have much sleep; her nerves kept her up all night. She thought this had to be it because why else would Sam be backstage. The last time she checked, New Directions were performing at the end of the week, not tonight. "Yeah, I'm fine…"

"That's good. I can't wait for you and the Limettes to perform. I know you ladies are going to be incredible."

"Thank you," Mercedes replied trying to avoid eye contact. "What are you doing here?" Mercedes asked. She was still stunned. Trust Sam Evans to pop out of nowhere at the most inopportune time. This needed to stop happening to her. Her shock expression turned suspicious. "Did you charm your way back stage?"

"Now why would I do that?"

"Because that's something you would do."

"As appealing as that sounds, I must sadly say that no, I didn't charm my way back here." Sam said, smiling at Mercedes' expression. He was really happy to see her. "Me and my band are getting ready for tonight's show."

"Your band...?" Mercedes nearly choked. "You guys are performing _here_, _tonight_?"

"Yeah, trust me, I'm still just as shocked as you are," Sam sighed. "We were supposed to be here Friday night, but for some reason Dave had decided to change the show to tonight. We only found out about this about a few hours ago."

Mercedes placed a hand on her forehead and closed her eyes trying to process everything. "You have got to be kidding me."

"My thoughts exactly, but I supposed there is a bright side to all of this madness, I get to see you sing for free." Sam shrugged. "So I guess I should be thanking Dave. He saved me thirty-five bucks."

"What do you mean?"

"But even if my band wasn't schedule to perform tonight, I still would've come."

"Of course you would."

Sam took a step back and stared at Mercedes.

"You look breathtaking," He whispered taking her hand and raising it to his lips. He gave it a quick kiss then smiled as Mercedes tried not to blush. "Simply beautiful," he said, giving Mercedes' a kiss, a longer one this time.

Mercedes couldn't say anything. She stared at him as he continued to look at her. She wanted to believe that she wasn't attracted to him. It would certainly make her life a lot easier. She wanted to believe that she was mesmerized by his eyes or that stupid smile that made the butterflies wild in her stomach.

Mercedes got out of her trance, glanced to the side and saw an employee heading her way. Thankfully, he was too engrossed in reading a piece of paper not to pay attention to Sam and his inability to let go of her hand. "Sam, let go of my hand. Someone's coming."

Sam flashed Mercedes a devious grin and released her hand. "That hasn't stopped us before."

Mercedes rolled her eyes, grabbed Sam's hand and pulled him inside the room. She checked to see if anyone was around in the hallway before closing the door.

"My God, Sam, did you not listento one word I said on Friday? We almost got caught."

"Of course I did." Sam looked around then grinned at Mercedes who looked like she was moments away from giving him a piece of her mind. Sam hoped she wouldn't verbally explode on him because that would attract unwanted attention that would most likely result in Holly telling Dave about his special appearance in Mercedes' dressing room. And Dave trying to kill him. "But the last time I checked, this isn't a cafeteria. We're back stage- really in a dressing room. We should be good."

"I should slap you, but I won't because that's not ladylike."

"You know, I'm a bit insulted," Sam said in a mock hurt voice, shaking his head. "I thought you would be happy to see me, not give threats the moment you saw my face."

"_Sam_."

"I know we're not allowed to interact and all, but did you honestly expect me not to say hello when I just happened to see you? That's rude, don't you think? Friends don't do that to friends." His smile dropped when Mercedes looked at him unimpressed. "In all seriousness, I came here to talk to you about something, well ask," Sam said, glancing through the open door to make sure no one- Dave or Holly was coming. "Do you mind if I close this?"

"Go right ahead."

Sam closed the door and continued, "Since it appears we can't have lunch at McKinley without people talking about it, we can just have it at my place." He raised an eyebrow when Mercedes looked at him puzzled. "I'm supposed to make that meal, remember?"

Mercedes blinked a few times wondering what Sam was referring to then her eyes widened. He remembered that? She sighed. Of course he would remember that. She gave him a small smile, debating whether or not she would just say no and get whatever this was over with. "I was only joking when I said that. I didn't mean it, and Sam, you don't have to-"

"Mercy, I want to and don't worry. This is strictly platonic. Not a date," Sam said. "I do miss talking to you. My lunchtime has been quite lonely. Who am I going to talk to about the new Spiderman and X-Men? Finn's not interested, Artie thinks I am nerd. And Rory didn't know who he was until two months ago."

"Oh, I see how it is now," Mercedes said in a teasing voice, lightly punching Sam on his shoulder. "I'm only good for talking about comics."

"Of course not, Mercy. So what do you say? I'll make you lunch, or dinner. Either is fine."

Mercedes shrugged and dramatically sighed. "Well, knowing you, you probably won't let this go until I say yes, so sure. It's been a while before someone made me a dinner that's not my mama."

"Dinner it is."

"When will be a good time?"

"Friday after you're done with work?" Sam suggested. "Since the show has been moved to tonight, I'll be free all day on Friday. Unless Dave decides to throw another curveball like he did this morning."

Mercedes pondered for a few moments. The offer sounded tempting; it really did. "Friday's good. I should be done by three."

"Terrific." Sam winked as he grabbed a piece of napkin off the table and a pen from his pocket.

"Here is my address," he said, writing his place of residence down on the napkin. "It's not very far from here. So after you're done tomorrow night stop by, will you? The doorman shouldn't give you any problems; just tell him you're here for me. If there's any trouble- well, you have my number."

Mercedes looked up at him and then back at the napkin. She knew Manhattan fairly well when she was walking. She was still not used to the subway and she didn't want to deal with bus drivers who thought they were in the middle of Mississippi and insisted that she sat in the back of the bus.

"Seems easy enough, but don't you think it would be better if you came with me? You know how to get to your place a lot better than I can." She laughed. "You can walk three steps behind me so people won't get suspicious."

"I have a better idea. I'll have my driver pick you up. He's cool. He won't give you any problems. I would pick you up myself, but I need to make that feast for you. Can't start when you get there. You won't be able to get back home at a reasonable time."

"Sam, you don't-"

"His name is Brody Weston. He'll be in front of McKinley by three." He handed her the napkin then reopened the door. "It's almost show time. I have to get back before Dave throws a fit." He stopped when he noticed Mercedes fumbling with her fingers. "Are you... okay?"

"I'm fine," Mercedes said giving him a smile that said she was obviously not. "I'm only nervous. There's a lot of people out there and-"

"It's perfectly okay to be nervous. It's your first show; of course you're going to be nervous. You'll be fine I promise. Just try not to mess up any lines. Make sure you make eye contact with everyone, but make sure you don't set your eyes on one person for long." Sam advised. He knew from experience how disastrous looking at a fan for a long time could be. "Unless of course, it's me. Then you can look as _long_ as you like."

Mercedes rolled her eyes and lightly pushed Sam out the door, "I really don't like you."

"I'm starting not to believe you."

"Oh, shut up."

* * *

"It took you long enough," was the first thing Santana said when Mercedes reached her and Tina. She crossed her arms and frowned. "We're on in less than ten. We didn't practice. It was kind of hard without you there." She narrowed her eyes. "I thought you only had to do your makeup."

Tina looked at Mercedes and raised an eyebrow.

"I did," Mercedes said following her group to the edge of the stage. She looked around for Holly, but the manager was nowhere to be seen. She was probably getting another cup of coffee, Mercedes thought. "But I- I ran into Sam."

"So much for the no interactions agreement," Tina mumbled. She apologized when Mercedes glared at her.

Santana looked at Mercedes as she tried to understand everything. "What is he doing here?"

"Oh you didn't know? Apparently New Directions is performing tonight."

"_What_?"

"Since when?"

"Since this morning," Mercedes sighed. "Anyway, Sam and I were only talking in our dressing room. Nothing else went-"

"He was in _our_ dressing room?" Tina gasped, covering her mouth. It looked like Mercedes was hopping on the reckless train right next to Santana.

Mercedes groaned. She should have just kept her mouth shut. Now Santana and Tina were going to judge her and think that something else went on in that room. "For only like three minutes." She quickly cut a glare at Santana who looked like she was a couple of seconds away from bursting into laughter. "Shut it, Santana."

"I didn't say anything. But I have to admit, sneaking boys into dressing rooms… I'm impressed; that's so unlike you," Santana teased, checking out herself through the floor mirror leaning against the wall. She smoothed out her dress and flashed Mercedes an amused smiled. "So what really went on in that room? And please try not to lie."

"We only talked for three minutes, said our hellos and goodbyes and went on our way," Mercedes said before taking a long sip of water.

"Three minutes is an awfully long time to only say hello and goodbye," Tina mumbled, then took a few steps back as Mercedes glared at her again. "I can't believe you two were in that room _alone_. What if someone caught you? Do you know much trouble you and get would be in if Holly or Dave knew about this?"

Mercedes slightly frowned. She couldn't even be mad at Tina; she had a very good point. Tina was always the voice of reason when it came to things like this. "Yes, I know, but I had no choice. He wouldn't go away, someone was coming. I didn't want to take the chance to deal with that."

"_Ladies_!"

The trio turned around when they heard their manager's voice. They waved and smile as she approached them. Holly took a sip of her coffee. "I hope you three are as excited as I am," she said grinning. "The show's been delayed for another thirty minutes. Lord knows why." She shrugged. "But it'll be okay. I'm sure everything is fine. Try to calm your nerves. I know your nervous, but I have faith in you. Remember, you're all going to sing 'Then He Kissed Me' at the same time, so make sure none of you fall behind- you need to sing as if you're all one voice, not three," Holly reminded her group as she placed her coffee down on the floor. She skimmed through some forms for the venue and signed her names on some of the pages. The show coordinator sure chose the right time to do this- ten minutes before the Limettes went on stage. "And don't forget your dances. Mike will be extremely disappointed."

_"Ms. Holliday- fifteen minutes!"_

Holly cursed under her breath. She had less time then she thought. She shoved the forms into the assistant coordinator's arms, told him not to talk about them until after the show and pulled the Limettes to the side where no one could really see. "Okay, ladies. You're going to go on soon. Don't let the nerves get to you."

"We'll try not to," Tina muttered, glancing at the stage.

"You'll be fine," Holy assured. "Don't let the crowd or the cameras scare you. Just sing your hearts out, remember your steps and everything will turn out great. Oh, and remember, you are not only performing for the people in the hall, you are performing for every single person who has a television."

"We're getting filmed?" Tina asked incredulously. "Like we're going to be on TV?"

"Of course you are. Why wouldn't-?"

"_Hello, Ms. Holliday_."

Holly stopped and stared at Sam in stunned silence as he walked to the sitting area. She blinked a few times. She could have sworn New Directions were not going to be here tonight. She turned to the Limettes who refused to make eye contact with her. "What is _he_ doing here?"

"You should ask Mercedes," Santana replied, nudging Mercedes on her side with an elbow. She was enjoying this way too much. "He wanted to see Mercedes kill it on the stage."

"I'm not the only one who will be singing, _Santana."_

"But you're the only one he's gonna pay attention to," Santana said, smirking at Mercedes who was trying her best not to blush. Santana and Tina exchanged knowing looks. "You know it's true."

Holly rolled her eyes and took a long sip of her coffee. Well, it looked like Mercedes wasn't following her advice after all- not as much as she would like. The lead singer appeared to be just as confused about Sam's presence as she was. "As wonderful as that sounds, my question still hasn't been answered? Why is he here and why was he backstage?" She glanced back at Santana then at Mercedes and deeply frowned. "The audience is not allowed backstage."

"Ms. Holliday, I swear to God, Jesus and my father's grave, I had nothing to do with this. I didn't even know he was going to show up."

"Of course you didn't."

"I'm not lying." Mercedes blinked. Holly must not know about New Directions performing tonight. She thought about letting Holly found out about this new development herself (maybe she would find out in a meeting with Dave and the show coordinator), but decided that it was best just to be upfront out it. She cleared her thought and replied, "New Directions are performing tonight, with us and Kitty and Marley."

"Excuse me?" Holly replied wondering if Mercedes were playing games with her. "Where did you hear that? Did you hear from the coordinator?"

"No, that's what Sam told me. New Directions were supposed to perform on Friday, but for some reason Dave changed it to tonight."

"Did Evans say why?"

"No." Mercedes shrugged. "It seemed like he didn't know the answer himself."

"I need a drink," Holly said, placing two fingers on the bridge of her nose. Tonight was not supposed to be this stressful. All she had to do was watch her group perform and collect the checks. That was all. "Okay, I'm going to figure out what the hell is going on. In the meantime, just stay here. I will be right back."

The Limettes nodded and watched Holly stomped away.

"And there she goes…"

"I think Holly is mad." Santana commented.

Tina rolled her eyes. "You think?"

Mercedes shook her head, pulled the curtains back and took a quick peep at the audience. She gasped. "Look at all those people; it has to be at least eight hundred out there. And the seats are still filling in."

"This is going to be insane," Tina whispered, rubbing her arms in nervousness. She was petrified about this performance. She knew the fear was just as irrational as Mercedes and Sam non-relationship. "Can I opt out of this?"

Mercedes turned around and slightly glared at Tina. "Tina, you're going to go out there. We all are going to go out there and we are going to do amazing."

"You got that right," Santana added, squeezing Tina's shoulders. "We're going to slay the show once we're on the stage. The audience won't know what hit them."

"Hey 'Cedes, are the any people of color out there?" Tina asked.

Mercedes looked back at the audience. The seating area was nearly full. She noticed a small group of blacks sitting in the back. She sighed and answered, "Yeah, like ten."

"I told you this is going to be full of white people," Santana said nudging Tina on the side. "The main act is Kitty and Marley."

"And New Directions," Mercedes added.

"And New Directions. Tell me; do you think a lot of Latinos, blacks and Chinese people are going to show up for that? The ten black people are probably here for us."

Tina snorted.

"Well, this sucks," Santana grumbled. "The audience probably won't eve like 'Heat Wave.' According to Will, the song _doesn't appeal to everyone_. It's not as much as a crossover song as 'Then He Kissed Me.'"

"Santana, stop complaining," Tina said. "I'm sure they'll like it. Holly would've told us if they wouldn't."

"I'm not complaining," Santana retorted. "I just want to see some color in the audience. Is that too much to ask? Those people out there are going to look at us like we're freaks."

"Well they can't think that bad for us," Mercedes said. "Our song reached number one this week. Number one. That can't all be from minorities."

"Don't worry, Santana. Holly did say that we're going to perform at a club in Harlem on Saturday night," Tina reminded her group. She was glad they would have a show it Harlem. It would be a lot easier to go home without worrying about the subway or bus fare. "Hey, maybe if we really do good, we can have a show at the Apollo."

"Oh God, I wish," Mercedes holding a hand to her chest. Her mother would flip if the Limettes could perform at the Apollo. "That would be amazing. Imagine singing during the same show as the Supremes or the Four Tops."

"I always wanted to see the both of them live," Tina added. "Especially the Four Tops. Even if they only sing 'Baby, I Need Your Loving' I will be satisfied. And ask for an autograph or picture, or both. I'm not too picky."

Mercedes laughed.

"And we won't have to deal with people who look at us like we don't belong there…" Santana pointed out rolling her eyes at the memory of one of the workers asking her if she came from a family of migrant workers. He was lucky that Santana was too focused on the upcoming performance to give him a piece of her mind. "At least not as much as here."

* * *

Holly hoped and prayed that it was all a lie.

"What is this I hear about New Directions performing tonight?" She asked as soon as she reached the show coordinator. "I mean, this is only a rumor, right?"

The show coordinator fixed his glasses and sighed. He wished that he was getting paid for dealing with managers as well as organizing an event. "Ah yes, New Directions have been added to the lineup tonight. They will be performing as well as the Limettes and the duet."

Holly nearly dropped her coffee. She gaped at the show coordinator and then back at Lawrence. She thought it was a rumor. She thought it was a lie Sam had told Mercedes to get out of trouble she didn't actually think it was _true_. "What do you mean New Directions are performing tonight? It's only supposed to be the Limettes, Kitty and Marley!"

The show coordinator gulped and took a step back, though he would not admit it was because Holly looked pretty terrifying right now. He held his hands up in defense. "It isn't my fault if anything, blame by boss. He's the one who changed the show's lineup. New Directions were scheduled to perform on Friday, but we're going through some renovations and he insisted that we moved them to tonight." He gulped because he could have sworn that Holly was growling at him. "He didn't think it was a big deal. You three are a part of the same record company..."

"Of course it is a big idea!" Holly shouted scaring some the employees as they rushed to the other side of back stage. "Why am I only finding out about this now? You know what? Don't answer that. Why am I asking you this? You wouldn't know. You didn't make the decision. Where's your boss? I need to have a little chat with him."

The show coordinator and his assistant glanced at each other.

"Mr. Roberts is not here at this moment. He will be here in the upstairs office tomorrow morning," the show coordinator slowly said. This was just his luck; he now had to deal with two angry managers. Dealing with Dave was fine, because that man was always in a bad mood, but he was certainly not used to handling Holly. "And it was not him who suggested the mood. It was Mr. Karofsky who had requested to allow New Directions to open tonight's show and move the Limettes' performance to the end of the show. This request was honored by my supervisor."

"Like Hell it was," Holly snapped, not believing what she had just heard. "My girls were supposed to open the show and they will be opening the show and if Dave has an issue with this, tell him to talk to me in person. I am not changing my plans because your boss wanted to change the line up this morning without notifying me and was too weak to tell Dave no. Please tell Mr. Roberts that he will be hearing from Holly Holliday, the manager of the Limettes," and with that, Holly left and headed to one of the concession stands.

She finished all of her coffee and planned to refill another cup when one of the employees, who must have sensed Holly's irritation, offer to do the job for her.

"Just who the Hell does Dave think he is?" Holly asked the employee who handed her new cup of coffee. She didn't know who the young woman was; she just met her thirty seconds ago, but she seemed to be less irritating than everyone else on the show staff. "What makes him think that changing the lineup without my permission is okay? He's not Billy Johnson- he just can't do things like that."

"It does seem that Mr. Karofsky has a talent for scaring people into doing what he wants," the employee commented, opening a sugar packet and pouring its content into Holly's cup.

"No, he has a talent for being a pain in my ass," Holly said putting enough packet of sugar in her coffee. She tried to limit her sugar intake, but she was stressed now. She needed all of the sugar she could get. "Do you know where he went?"

The employee shrugged and looked around. She pointed to Dave who was walking towards him. "Spot him. He's heading towards us right now."

"Great," Holly grumbled. She glanced at the employee. "Thanks for the coffee. I highly suggest you leave, it may get ugly."

Holly did not have to tell the employee twice. She smiled at the manager and scurried away.

"Well, well, well, it's Holly Holliday," Dave said as Holly approached him fuming and scaring off the other workers who dare to come near the coffee pot. "I thought you were scrubbing bars for a living."

"Actually I was co-managing one," Holly retorted, giving Dave a deep frown. "But this is not about me and my previous profession. This is about you and your audacity to change lineups without having the courtesy to tell me."

"I wasn't aware that I had to tell you everything."

"Oh, cut the shit, Dave. You know you had to tell me. I am the manager of the Limettes. You're switching my group's lineup with yours. Don't you think that this something you should have told me earlier?"

Dave took a step forward. It looked like Holly hadn't changed at all. She was still a hothead who had not issue speaking her mind. "You have not right to talk to me like that, I am-'

Holly held her hand up cutting off Dave's soon to be speech. "I don't give a damn if you are the president of the United States himself. Just because you manage New Directions does not mean you have more authority over the rest of the managers," She said, poking at Dave's chest. It was obvious that she was not afraid of the manager like most people when they encountered Dave. "You can't change things without telling anyone. And since you have failed to do so, the Limettes will start the show and New Directions will end the show. End of story, and if you have an issue with that, you can complain to Billy first thing tomorrow morning."


	8. Chapter 8

**CHAPTER SEVEN**

"Is it wrong for me to say that I'm not excited for tonight's show?" Artie said as he dropped his bass guitar case on one of the chairs. "Because I think it's pretty wrong."

"I don't blame you," Rory said combing back his hair. He was a bit frustrated as well. He had plans tonight. He was supposed to be in a restaurant on City Island, sharing dinner with Sugar Motta right now, not at Radio City Music Hall, closing a show. "I really wished I had known about the schedule change yesterday instead of this morning."

Artie nodded in agreement.

"You and me both," Sam mumbled walking into the New Directions dressing room, startling his band members. "You and me both…"

Rory and Artie both stared at Sam wondering where on earth the guitar player could have been for the past fifteen minutes.

Sam wasn't bothered by their stares. He only had a few minutes to get ready- actually, now that he thought about it, he had a lot of time. But Dave wanted to make sure that his group was prepared by the time the show started.

"There's no use in complaining about our abrupt schedule change," Finn said before opening a can of beer. He had promised Dave that he would lay off the alcohol until after the New Directions tour, but he needed a drink. From the crazy tour preparation to the never-ending Rachel-Quinn drama, this week had been nothing but hell for him. "We can't get out of the show. Dave would lose his mind."

"Dave would lose his mind over anything," Rory pointed out. He watched Finn open a can of beer and downed the drink in a few gulps. He slightly frowned. It looked like some things never changed. "I thought you promised Dave you wouldn't have another beer until next month?"

Finn gave Rory an irritated look as he finished the whole can. He threw it in the trashcan and reached for another one. This would be his last can for the night, he swore to God it would be. But he had to have some beer before he went on stage, no matter how many times he would promise everyone, this was a habit he couldn't give up. "I'm stressed and beer de-stresses me." He glanced at Artie. "Artie, you want one?"

"No thanks." Artie shook his head. "I'll get one after the show."

"Sam?"

"I'll pass."

"So are you sure we're closing tonight?" Artie asked. "I thought Dave said that he managed to convince the show coordinator to let us open the show."

"Did you not see Holly nearly rip his head off out there?" Finn replied shaking his head. He thought about having another can of beer, but decided against it. He needed to be relatively sober until the show was over, "There's no way we're opening tonight's show. The Limettes are as originally planned."

"Oh yeah, I forget about them," Rory commented, "I like their first song- it's catchy." He blinked when Finn and Artie gave him a slight dirty look. He shrugged and asked thoroughly confused by the gesture, "What?"

"Nothing."

Rory shrugged and took one last look in the mirror.

"You two can stay here," He said grabbing his drum sticks. "I'm going to watch the show from the sidelines."

Sam took a tie out of his bag and nodded. "A soon as I'm done. I'm going to go down to the seating area until Kitty and Marley comes on," he announced, "I'll come back here as soon as possible."

Finn and Rory exchanged puzzled looks, both wondering why would Sam risk sitting with the audience. New Directions were normally not allowed to sit in an audience during a show they were performing in. Dave claimed that doing so would only bring more attention to the group, which the manager didn't like unless it could be advantageous. And dealing with fans (young women, a times men- groupies in general) who realized that they were only seats away from a member of New Directions was certainly not advantageous for the group.

Rory raised an eyebrow." Why the audience? You know Dave only allows us to watch any shows from the side of the stage."

Sam shrugged.

Artie snorted. "He wants to watch his girlfriend from the audience."

Finn nearly choked on his beer and quickly glanced at Sam irritated. He shouldn't be surprised, he really shouldn't. Sam was a stubborn listener. He wasn't going to listen to Finn or Dave's advice until it was too late.

Rory blinked then looked at his band mates confused. "But Brittany's not here…"

"I'm not talking about Brittany."

Sam glared at Artie.

Finn, trying not to think about what Artie meant, thought it would be wise to drop the subject. He turned his attention to Sam. Like Rory and Artie, he too wanted to know why Sam came to this room so late. He was missing in action for a good twenty minutes; he actually thought that Sam had ditched the group, which he knew he would never do, but still. He was worried and he was curious.

"Sam, where were you? You disappeared for about fifteen minutes."

Sam stared at the mirror in front of him. He thought about lying. Lying would certainly save him from hearing yet another lecture from Finn about how he should "conduct" himself as a member of New Directions. Lying would be the best option, but Sam concluded that there was a _good_ reason to think about a plausible lie.

He reached for his tie and slowly put in on. "I ran into Mercedes," he replied, which wasn't necessarily a lie. He had seen her walked out of her dressing room as he walking back from the bathroom. "We talked for a little bit… nothing big."

Artie snorted. " Wow, you're not being discreet _at all_…"

Sam ignored Artie's comment. He would deal with him at a later time. He also tried not to have Finn's harsh judging stare faze him as he finished tying his tie. Sam knew the lead singer disapproved. He, like Dave, seemed to always disapprove what New Directions did unless it was authorized by Dave, and at times, Sue.

"Mercedes," Finn said slowly, "You met up with Mercedes, after Dave said that you were supposed to focus all your attention on one woman: Brittany S. Pierce?"

Sam rolled his eyes. Yes, Dave had said that, plenty of times. The manager had noticed that Sam and Brittany were spending less and less time together and demanded Sam to fix the problem. He didn't know why all the blame was put on him; it wasn't like Brittany was trying to play her part either. She spent most of her time shopping with Santana and trying to fix the growing rift between Rachel and Quinn.

"My God, Finn, we're friends. She was walking out of her room, and I decided to greet her." He frowned. "I can't say hi to a woman who isn't Brittany without you complaining about it?"

Sam signed to himself. He knew that Fin wasn't going to let this go; Finn never let anything go. Sam groaned, knowing where this was going lead into. He He didn't want to get into another fight with Finn. He wasn't in the mood to hear Finn complain to him about his seemingly "reckless" behavior. All he wanted to do was finished getting ready for the show and leave the dressing room before the show started. Since the Limettes, and Mercedes, were opening the show that was going to start in less than fifteen minutes, he had to hurry up with what he was doing and find a seat in the audience.

"You're aware that Dave is going to flip shit if he finds out about your liaisons with Mercedes, right? You know he has a no tolerance dating policy. If she isn't- doesn't look or act like us, we don't take her out."

"And look how _well_ that's worked out for you," Sam retorted as he angrily put on his tie. He was tired of Finn, of all people, trying to lecture him about his personal life. "I'm surprised Rachel and Quinn haven't teamed up and murdered you already. I know I would've."

Rory tried to hide his chuckles in the back of the room.

Artie only sighed and continued to get ready. He was not going to have any part of this.

"This isn't about me and my problems," Finn snapped, clenching his fists, "This is about you and your reputation as a member of New Directions. As far as the public and McKinley Records are concerned, you are expected to ask Brittany to become your lawfully wedded wife by the end of this year. Think about that before you try to ruin your career because of another woman."

Sam gave Finn a dirty look. He was tempted to tell Finn that he needed to listen to his own advice, but he was not in the mood to get into another fight the lead singer. They were already on rocky terms (though in Sam's defense, that was mostly Finn's doing) and if Dave or anyone else found out about that- it wouldn't be pretty.

"They don't have anything to worry about," Sam assured, glaring at Artie who called him an idiot under his breath. "Nothing's going to happen. Mercy- Mercedes has no interest in me. She's told me that plenty of times."

"That's not the point, and you know it," Finn grumbled and turned to Artie and Rory, "I'll be backstage until we come on. We all need to be right next to the stage when Kitty and Marley are on so we won't have to worry about being late..."

Sam only rolled his eyes and cursed under his breath.

"Hey Sam, don't take what Finn said to heart," Rory said as soon as Finn walked out of the dressing room, slamming the door behind him. "I know it may not seem that way, but he's only trying to look out for you. You know how it is with the media and such. They'll twist and turn anything."

"He has a point, you know," Artie added, "A very good point. You're playing with fire, man."

Sam frowned. "You shouldn't be one talking, Artie." He put his guitar under one of the counters. He would get that later. "I'm going to go now. I'll see you both later."

"Wait up for me. I'm going too." Rory jumped out of the chair he was sitting in and followed Sam out of the room, leaving Artie to wonder if he was the only person in New Directions who had some common sense.

"You can watch them from the back of the stage," Rory said, looking out for Dave once he and Sam walked into the backstage area. He shook his head at the sight of his boss still arguing with Holly Holliday. When was his manager ever going to learn? Holly Holliday was not a woman one could simply cross and get away with it. "That way you can enjoy the show without anyone, namely Dave or Holly, getting suspicious."

"Nah, I'll have a better view from the audience."

"The show's sold out. How are you going to get an extra seat?"

"Not in the third row it is. I'm going to convince that lady in front to let me sit there for only the Limettes. I've done this plenty of times. I'll be fine."

Rory only raised an eyebrow and watched his band mate leave back stage and into the hallway leading to the venue's lobby.

It took much longer for Sam to reach his destination than he initially thought. He had to take the longer route to the lobby in order to avoid and Holly who were still at each other's throats. And while he was able to escape from the managers' sight, he had to deal with the other staff members wanting to ask him every question under the sun.

He sighed in relief when he found the maître d in the lobby. She was a pretty young woman, standing behind a podium looking through the seating charts while she talked to one of the ushers.

Sam straightened up his tie, put on his best smile and walked up to the maître d', who didn't notice him until he was right in front of the podium. He waited for her to finish speaking to the usher before speaking up, "Hello miss, and how are you on this fine night?"

He widened his trademark smile that seemed to make every woman swoon. The maître d was not an exception for the moment she glanced at him, she nearly stumbled and messed up the neat pile of papers in front of her.

"Hello, Mr. Evans," she stammered putting her papers back in one pile. She stood up straight, pulled down her skirt that always seemed to be rising up at the wrong times and put a wide friendly smile on her face. "I'm so sorry for my clumsiness. It's been a long night and- I'm so sorry."

"No problem. And please by all means, call me Sam."

"Sam…" she said trailing off when Sam leaned closer to her. She could feel the blush forming on her cheeks. "What can I help you with?"

"I couldn't help but notice a few empty seats in the third row. I was wondering if those seats are going to get filled up in the next few minutes. I know the show's starting soon…"

"Oh right," the maître d' slowly replied snapping out of her daze. She looked down at her charts and nodded. "Yes, some of the reservations didn't check in yet, but there are a couple of free seats available."

"Oh I see," Sam replied. "Is there a way you can be a darling and allow let me sit in one of those extra seats in the third row? I'll only be there for the first act, I promise. And only if it won't get you in trouble."

The maître d' smiled at Sam and deeply blushed. She looked down at her seating chart and said, "Well of course, Mr. Evans. Do you need me to lead you to your seat?"

Sam shakes his head. "No thank you, I'll find my way. And thank you very much for this favor. Ms…?"

"Morrison." She down casted her eyes and played with her wedding ring. She had to the temptation to take it off, but doing so would look obvious and suspicions. "Well, Mrs. Morrison. But you can call me Mary."

"Thank you very much, Mrs. Mary Morrison."

Sam walked through the doors leading to the theater and down the aisle, greeting people he recognized. He signed a couple of autographs for a group of young women who noticed him walking past them. Sam stopped when he noticed a familiar face sitting in the third row. He looked along the row. The two seats at the end of the row were already filled and the only seat he had was next to a woman who was sitting next to his friend. He decided that he would just ask the lady nicely to move for him.

"Blaine," he half-yelled as he walked down the row, apologizing to everyone bumped into or asked to move for him.

Blaine turned, smiled and waved back.

"Do you mind if we switch seats?" Sam asked, giving the woman a wide smile. His smiles always worked with the ladies, except for Mercedes, for the most part. He had to work on her. "There's someone I haven't seen in a while sitting next to you. I only want to say hello."

Blushing, the woman rose from her seat and moved to the next one. "Sure."

"Thank you," he said sitting down. He turned his attention to Blaine and asked quietly, "How's it going? I didn't know you were going to be here."

"I just arrived in this city a few hours ago," Blaine leaned in and whispered, "I promised Marley I would see her perform tonight. I missed her last show because of the tour."

"Oh yeah, how was that?"

"Same old, same old," Blaine said at his neighbor sitting opposite of Sam. Thankfully, the people around them were too engrossed in their conversation to eavesdrop. "Hunter and Sebastian got into an argument several times about who the lead singer was. I wish Cooter would assign someone as a lead for the Warblers already, so we won't have to keep fighting about this. He has the both of them sharing leads."

"Damn, that has to be a mess."

"Yeah, a mess and a half." Blaine looked around the audience to see if there was anyone else he knew. He waved at an actress he met last month. "Enough about me. How's New Direction going?" He smirked. "I heard Finn's love triangle is becoming really nasty."

"Oh, you have no idea. I keep telling him that he needs to get his act together before Dave does it for him, but what do I know? He keeps saying that he can handle it, that he has everything under control. Do you know I had to stop Rachel and Finn from delivering blows a couple of weeks ago?"

"Why?" Blaine gasped then sighed. "What did Finn do now?"

"He asked Rachel to marry him, but when she said that he had to end whatever he had with Quinn, the idiot refused, and well, you know how that ended."

"Why did he refuse?"

Sam gave him a look. Blaine nodded with understanding. "Oh, they're still doing that? And just to think I thought that the publicity stunt was over with. Speaking of publicity stunts, how's Brittany?"

Sam shifted in his seat uncomfortably. "Brittany is Brittany. She's fine."

"Is she here?"

"No," Sam replied watching the announcer walk on the stage. He grinned. Finally, the show was about to start. "She wanted to come. She's friends with the Limettes and Marley, but Sue is making the Cheerios stay late in the studio tonight."

"Damn, that sucks," Blaine leaned back in his seat, grinning when the stage curtains finally drew back. "Hey, it looks like the show's about to start."

* * *

"Five minutes until show time!"

Holly rounded up her girl group and led them to the end of the stage. She was about to give another pep talk when Kitty and Marley emerged to the back stage area. She glanced back at the duo and their manager. She waved at them. The Limettes did the same.

Kitty and Marley's manager waved and walked away. Kitty sneered at them in return before walking to the other side of the stage, arguing with her manager. Marley stopped to wave back at the girl group and mouthed an apology for Kitty's actions. She rushed to Kitty as soon as her partner called her name.

"What on earth is her problem? We wave hello to her, to be nice and all she does is give us attitude," Santana said glaring at Kitty as she practiced her vocals with her traveling vocal coach. "Is she always like that?"

"She's just like Quinn.""

"I know."

"No, she's worse," Holly cut in, watching Kitty as she practiced a song with Marley. She narrowed her eyes and then returned her attention back to her group. "At least Quinn has a reason to act all high and mighty, Sue forced her to. And she is the most recognizable member of the Cheerios. Kitty's just a little brat who's obsessed with Quinn. I would pay her no mind if I were you."

"I know I won't," Santana commented, glaring at Kitty who still arguing with her manager.

"Okay, we have a few minutes left. Don't let the nerves get to you," Holly said. "Do your best. Remember to smile and sing your hearts out. Thankfully, you're opening the show so as soon as you're done you don't have to worry about anything for the rest of the show, unless they demand an encore."

"Imagine that," Santana said smiling.

Tina started shuddering in her place and gave her band mates a weary glance. She knew this was not the time to be nervous; the Limettes were about to be on stage in a few minutes, but she couldn't help it. "What if they boo us off the stage and thrown tomatoes at us?"

Mercedes rubbed Tina's arms in assurance. She smiled and said, "Tina, they're not going to boo us off the stage. Or throw tomatoes."

"And if they dare try to," Santana added, watching the announcer walk onto the stage, "I'll give them a real dirty look."

"What if we mess up? What if we make a fool out of ourselves?"

Holly sighed and shook her head. Tina was psyching herself out. "Don't let the audience intimidate you. They're not here to freak you out, they want to hear some terrific music."

"I agree; we can't be worried about the worst case scenario. We didn't come all the way to damn city to mess up," Mercedes said, patting Tina's shoulders, "We're here to make a name for ourselves. And we're going to make names for ourselves, do you understand me?"

Tina slowly nodded and prayed.

"And when the announcer raises his hand-"

"That's our cue to go."

"Excuse me, ladies."

The Limettes moved aside as the announcer walked passed them onto the stage. The watched him as he fixed his clothes, his tie and the microphone. He did a couple of mic-checks with the show coordinator and motioned for a member of the stage crew to draw the curtains, revealing an audience of about a thousand.

The announcer cleared his throat. "Hello, everyone. Welcome to McKinley Night at Radio City Music Hall. Tonight we have a special treat for all of you. We're not only going to have one group perform, not two but three of the hottest groups in McKinley Records. Our first group is a new comer at McKinley and has already made splashes on the charts. Everyone give a round of applause for the Limettes!"

The announcer clapped at as the audience erupted in a loud round of applause. He smiled at the Limettes standing at the end of the stage, holding each other hands and mumbling prayers, and whispered walking off the stage, "Good luck, ladies."

Mercedes had never felt this nervous in her life. The moment she stepped on the stage, a part of her wanted to turn around and avoid the whole show together. But she couldn't do that. She told herself that she would be fine as she walked to her spot behind the middle microphone. She gave a bashful smile at her band mates who stood next to her.

She looked out of the crowd and tried not to gulp. There had to be more than a thousand pairs of eyes staring right at her and her friends. She quickly glanced at her manager standing behind the curtains. She briefly smiled when Holly gave a thumbs up.

"Y'all ready?" She whispered as low as possible to Santana and Tina. She nodded when her band mates gave an affirmative nod. She turned around and motioned the band to start playing.

The group took a collective deep breath.

_Well he walked up to me _

_And he asked me if I wanted to dance_

_He looked kinda nice_

_And so I said I might take a chance_

Mercedes quickly glanced at Holly who was standing at the edge of the stage, nodding as the show coordinator talked to her about something she couldn't catch. She looked back at the audience and smiled the best she could.

_When he danced he held me tight_

_And when he walked me home that night_

_All the stars were shining bright_

_And then he kissed me_

_Each time I saw him_

_I couldn't wait to see him again_

_I wanted to let him know_

_That he was more than a friend_

_I didn't know just what to do_

_So I whispered I love you_

_And he said that he loved me too_

_And then he kissed me_

"They sound good," Marley said standing next to Holly. She was waiting for Kitty to fix her hair and come out back stage. "I think this song suits them much better than the Cheerios."

Holly took a glimpse of Marley then back at her group. She was right, They did sound good and looked good as well, though Tina was still looking a bit stiff. Hopefully, she would loosen up for the next song. She looked out in the audience; they seemed to be enjoying themselves. A few people far in the back were dancing. "They do, but I like their second song, Heatwave, better. It's more them." She blinked. "This was originally the Cheerios' song?"

Marley nodded then walked away when her manager called her name.

Holly raised both her eyes and leaned onto the wall near the stage. Well, this was something that Will had failed to mention to her. No wonder Sue was mad about the success of this song. It was a wasted opportunity for her Cheerios to get another number one song.

_I knew that he was mine_

_So I gave him all the love that I had_

_And one day he took me home_

_To meet his mom and his dad_

_Then he asked me to be his bride_

_And always be right by his side_

_I felt so happy I almost cried_

_And then he kissed me_

Blaine nudged his friend with his shoulder. It took him a few times to get his attention. Sam seemed to be mesmerized and had a dazed expression on his face as he watched the Limettes dance. He leaned to the side and quietly asked, "Why are you in the audience? Aren't you on tonight?"

Sam nodded then smiled when Mercedes gave him an odd look during the instrumental interlude. His eyes followed her every movement as she moved to the music. "Yeah, I just wanted to see them perform. It's their first performance, you know. I'm leaving as soon as they're done."

"Won't you get in trouble by Dave?"

"Dave knows."

Blaine gave Sam a long look before returning his attention to the Limettes who resumed singing. He gave Sam a quick glance and sighed. So the rumors were true after all, no wonder Dave and Sue had looked so bitter when someone mentioned the Limettes. He wasn't going to ask about it. He was going to stay out of this drama as much as he could.

"They sound amazing," He commented when the Limettess finished their songs. He clapped along with the audience and even stood up and cheered along with Sam.

"Yes, she does."

On the stage, the Limettes stared, mostly in shock, by the audience's reaction. They didn't think the audience would hate their first song, no matter how many times Tina had voiced her reasons, but this, they weren't expecting something like this.

"See, Tina, no tomatoes," Santana teased as she watched the audience cheer the Limettes on. She picked up her microphone stand and moved, "One more song to go."

Tina was moments from grabbing both Mercedes and Santana and hugging them tight, but then Tina remembered that Holly had said that the group could celebrate once they left the shade. She tried to hide her excitement the best she could, but all she wanted to do was jump for joy. This was the largest crowd her and her two best friends sang for and they were receiving ovations from over a thousand people. She wished her parents could see this in person. They wouldn't believe their eyes.

Mercedes released a deep breath that she didn't even know she was holding as the audience continued clapped and cheered loudly. She smiled into the audience and did a small wave. She picked up the microphone stand and moved it to another position for the Limettes' second song. She glanced at Tina who looked stiff as she too moved her stand. "Tina," she whispered, "Girl, loosen up, will you?"

Tina blinked then nodded. "I'll try my best."

Santana followed close behind and when the group was finally in their places, she smirked at Mercedes and asked in the lowest possible voice. "What is Trouty doing in the audience?"

Mercedes gave Santana a look. Of course she would mention that, and yes, she wondered the same thing when she had spotted him, grinning like a madman as she danced during the music intermission. "How am I supposed to know? And stop talking," she caught Holly gesturing her to start the next song. "We got to do Heat Wave now."

As if on cue, the band started playing the beat for the next song.


	9. Chapter 9

**CHAPTER EIGHT  
**

Holly liked Emma. She was a sensible woman and a much better candidate for vice president than Sue would ever be. Sure, she was a bit weird, but she was respectful and took her job very seriously- Holly liked that. But there were some times when all she wanted to do was strangle her.

Like right now.

The manager of the Limettes leaned back in her chair as she tried to digest the information Emma had just presented to her over breakfast. They were in the supervisor lounge; a luxurious lounge on the top of McKinley building, overlooking some of the low-rise buildings of downtown Manhattan.

"Are you saying that Billy wants the Limettes, the Cheerios, New Directions, the Warblers _and_ Kitty and Marley to be on the _same_ tour?"

"That is exactly what I am saying, Ms. Holliday. Billy thinks that having all of our major acts on one tour will not only bring large amounts of revenue to McKinley Records but also bring recognition to our groups from across the country. This is something that has never been done before."

"It course it hasn't. It's an insane idea."

"The idea is not insane," Emma slowly replied, feeling a bit offended by Holly's comment. "Risky, yes, but certainly not insane. The tour is only going to be two weeks long. We will only be touring on the east coast. We will start with the New England area and end in Atlanta."

"Are all of these shows going to be integrated, including the ones in the south?"

"Everyone in the north should be fine," Emma said, not completely sure of herself. She would have to see if the venue in Boston would be willing not to segregate the crowd. "Baltimore maybe. I highly doubt we can do anything in Virginia, North Carolina and South Carolina. Atlanta maybe be a stretch. But you know with all of the civil rights marches and such going on in the south, it probably wouldn't be a wise idea to mix the races."

"I completely understand." Holly made a mental note to tell the Limettes about this plan over lunch at a _very_ nice restaurant. "What cities are we going in the South?"

"Only Norfolk, Charlotte, Charleston and Atlanta."

"Okay, that's doable." Holly called for one of the waitresses to give her a glass of wine. It was in the morning, and it might be a bit too early for any liquor, but Holly needed something. "What did Cooter, Dave and Sue say about this? I know they can't be too happy."

Emma cleared her throat. "I'm sure that you are aware that all managers are employees of McKinley Records," she replied slowly, "Me and Billy are always open to suggestions, but ultimately the decisions we will be decided among us."

"When will we be leaving?"

"In the beginning of April, and the tour will end two weeks later."

Holly frowned. That didn't give her enough time. It was the middle of March and even though it appeared that the Limettes had no issue opening for large crowd, they only did one show. They didn't have the proper training for an entire tour that would normally take a month.

"We can't push it back?" Holly inquired. "My girls have never been on tour. It took us nearly a week and a half to get them ready for _one_ show."

"I am aware of that, that's why I have devised an elaborate schedule for the Limettes. The workload will be much more than usual, but the Limettes, believe it or not, are one of the mature acts McKinley has to offer. They will be fine."

"Do they have to record another song?"

Emma snapped her fingers and dug into her purse. She pulled out a folder and handed it to the manager. "Here are the schedules for the next two weeks, as well as more information about the tour. Mr. Puckerman has agreed to record another song for the Limettes tomorrow, so make sure you tell your girls to be here tomorrow morning by eight am sharp. They will only have limited time with the producer, only because Billy wants the Cheerios to record another song as well."

Holly took a deep breath and skimmed the contents of the folder. "Okay, Emma, whatever you say. Are my girls opening?"

"Yes."

"And the other managers are aware of that?" Holly asked. "Because I really don't want to have a fight with them about lineups minutes before the show starts." She gave the vice president a pointed look. "I don't want to have a repeat of last night."

"That will not be an issue. I promise," Emma said, "And in order to make sure it does not, I have decided to join you all on the tour to oversee all activities."

Holly nodded and continued looking through the folder as Emma continued to talk about the impending tour. Holly was not as excited as Emma would have thought she would be. Don't get Holly wrong, she was happy that Billy thought that the Limettes were capable to go on a tour, but they were still newbies. They didn't know all of the ropes to the music business, and to top it off, she had to deal with Sue, Cooter (who believe it or not, even with his attitude problems, was the least of her worries) and Dave in person for two weeks straight.

* * *

Rachel Berry tried her best to subdue any feelings of guilt as she headed towards the cafeteria. She tried not to think about what would happened if Sue popped out of nowhere and demanded why she was heading to get some breakfast instead of going straight home to treat her mysterious illness. She knew it was irrational; Sue was too busy being a helicopter manager to Brittany and Quinn to worry about her now.

Rachel Berry was doing something she had never done before. She was missing a voluntary singing session with Will, and she was perfectly fine with it (for the most part, she was paranoid beyond the belief at the thought of someone about finding out her lie). Of course Sue and the others hadn't felt the same, but Rachel had claimed she was sick, and since the session was optional, she should be able to miss just this once.

That was another thing Rachel had never done, blatantly lie right in front of her manager and her band mates' face. And people claimed she wasn't a rebel…

"Good morning, Miss Berry," Ms. Lucy said as soon as Rachel walked into the cafeteria. it was early in the morning so not many people would be here. Rachel thought this would be a perfect place to sit down, have a nice cup of tea and a bagel and _relax_.

"And good morning to you, Ms. Lucy." Rachel took a mug and poured herself a cup of already brewed tea. She was glad she didn't have to put her hand on a tea bag. She had just gotten her nails done last night; she didn't want to mess up the nail polish. "How are you?"

"I am quite well, thank you, Ms. Berry."

She cringed when Ms. Lucy used her last name again. She cringed every time someone said 'Berry' instead of her God-given name. Her real name was Rachel Bernstein, but only a few people outside of her family and McKinley were aware of this. For everyone else, she was Rachel Berry. According to the executives at McKinley Records including, but not limited to Sue and Emma, in order for Rachel to be fully accepted by society as the front woman of the Cheerios, her name needed to sound as American- culturally and religiously- as possible. Of course Rachel had protested the change in the beginning. She had written an entire essay addressed to Billy and Sue about how according to the Constitution people have the right to practice any religion. Therefore, there should be nothing wrong with having a last name that could identify a person with a particular religion. Unfortunately, her protests were all in vain.

It took a while for Rachel to somewhat get over the name change, but she could never say she was surprised. Changing names weren't anything new in the world of show and music business. Billy had suggested that Quinn should also change her name to Jane because he believed Quinn was not a feminine name. Of course Sue had defended Quinn and Billy would never ask about the name change ever again.

Rachel knew it shouldn't be a big deal, but still. It hurt to be virtually forced to switch last names so she could "fit in."

She quickly smiled at the lunch lady, hoping that the older woman didn't see her previous expression. Ms. Lucy was a sweetheart; Rachel didn't want her to think that she didn't like her very much.

Rachel thanked Ms. Lucy for her meal and quickly rushed to where she noticed Kurt was sitting. She was so happy to see him. She hadn't been able to speak to him in over a week due to conflicting schedules.

"My favorite Cheerio," Kurt said as soon as Rachel sat down on his table. He reached over to give him a hug. "I haven't seen you in days. How are you?"

"I'm… fine."

"Rachel Barbra Bernstein, don't you dare lie to me," Kurt chided. "Something is going on, and you going to-"

"I had lied to Sue."

Kurt blinked then scoffed. "Honey, _everyone_ has lied to Sue at one point."

"I know but, it's just- it's been a long week," Rachel said before biting into her bagel. "Sue is being more irrational than usual. It's like I don't even have a life anymore. Everything is work, work, work, which I'm not complaining because they are some singers who can't get to sample a song, but still. It's becoming overbearing even for me."

"It's that bad?"

"Yes, I am supposed to be at a singing session with Will, but I lied and said that I was under the weather and requested to opt out of the session. This is the first time I have ever done this. I'm normally the first person to arrive anywhere, but I couldn't do it this morning."

"Oh darling…"

"I also have decided that I should just give up on any dreams of spending the rest of my life with Finn Hudson," Rachel declared before taking a sip of her tea. She placed the cup back down and continued, "I have come to the realization that he is never going to leave Quinn, and there should be no reason why I should continue to hold onto something that is so toxic and certainly not worth it."

"I think that's a very wise idea."

"Did you know Finn asked me to marry him?"

Kurt took a cookie and ate it. "Yes, Dave told me," he slightly frowned. "And about what happened afterwards…"

Rachel sighed, remembering that night in front of her apartment building. The fact that there was no exclusive story in the gossip magazines or paparazzi was nothing short of amazing. "I did not know what came over me," she admitted, "I am normally a very calm and composed person. I'm not Quinn. I do not lash out at people in anger, but-"

"Finn was being an asshole and there was nothing else you could've done."

"Yes, at least there is someone who understands my plight."

"I completely understand. I wanted to do the same thing when Blaine said that he cheated on me because he couldn't handle long distance relationships."

"I cannot believe how bad everything has become," Rachel said, "Before New Directions and the Cheerios became big, we were so happy. Everyone got along with everyone. Finn was only faithful to me, and Quinn did not spend most of her time catering to the public and taking my man."

"In Quinn's defense, Sue was the one who said she should date Finn to-"

"Should, Kurt, the key word is _should_," Rachel said, cutting off Kurt. "Yes, Sue was the one who introduced the idea, but she did not force anything on Quinn. Quinn, if she was truly my friend, should have said no. Instead, she openly embraced the idea."

Kurt did not know what else to say. Rachel had a point, a very good point. Instead, he continued eating his corn beef hash, pondering about a way to change the subject. After three forkfuls of food, he looked up at Rachel who was slightly frowning to herself. "Do you know why Sue's in a bad mood? I said good morning to her earlier and she looked at me as if I had just insulted her.

Rachel sighed and drank her tea. "Sue's always in a bad mood, but I suppose you're right. She was extremely bitter this morning. I didn't check the paper, but apparently 'Then He Kissed Me' is number one, and the show at Radio City was much better than originally anticipated."

"But that was a couple of days ago."

"Sue is not one to let go of any grudges." She snapped her fingers. "Oh yes, I remember now. Because McKinley Night was such a success, Billy has decided that there should be a McKinley tour. All of the company's biggest acts will perform together…"

'But- but Sue doesn't like when the Cheerios tour with other groups."

Rachel gave Kurt a look. "As much as my manager wants to believe otherwise, she is not president of McKinley Records. She has a lot of clout, yes, but Billy is the one who ultimately makes all of the final decisions."

"How do you feel about it?"

"I don't know," she honestly replied, "I suppose I am more intrigued more than anything. It's been a while since the Cheerios have traveled with other groups. I know Quinn isn't too thrilled about it, but Brittany couldn't be happier."

Suddenly, Rachel thought the moment when she had told Sue she didn't want to attend that session. She could tell that her manager was both shocked and disappointed. Rachel was never the one to defect from any of Sue's plans. She was Rachel Berry; she was the one who followed all of the rules and had a smile on her face everywhere she went.

But she could feel her façade slowly breaking down. She was tired. She was tired of the disrespect she received from many members of the McKinley family. She was tired of Sue always choosing Quinn over her. She was tired of Finn not being intelligent enough to understand that no, she refused to be his side chick. And she was tired of people not realizing that yes, she had some self-worth and she was not going to sell her soul for McKinley.

It might be surprising to hear this from an outsider. Rachel was McKinley's perfect, all-around singer. She was seen as the obedient, goody two shoes member of the Cheerios. She was not one to lash out against the group or her manager when something didn't go her way. She sucked it up, hid all of her emotions and smiled to everyone as if there was absolutely, positively nothing wrong with her life. She despised Sue Sylvester with a passion, and the only reason why Rachel put up with her manager was because she strongly believed that everything will work out in the end. She would become a star for life and win multiple awards for her musical achievements.

"I'm thinking about leaving the Cheerios," Rachel said in a small voice, refusing to meet Kurt's stunned gaze. "I think I would be much happier with my life if leave McKinley and obtain stardom my own way."

Kurt had to admit; he was stunned by Rachel's revelations. He never had thought in a million years that Rachel would consider leaving the Cheerios. She loved the Cheerios, she had said numerous times that she would ride and die with the Cheerios.

"You want to start a solo career?"

Rachel shook her head, realizing that she was probably tired of the music business. "No, I want to be on Broadway. I think I would be good in musical- you know, shows where I can not only sing, but act."

"Have you told Sue about this?"

Rachel scoffed. "Oh god, no. I need to mentally prepare myself for that confrontation. I have been attending some auditions for some low-scale musicals. It shouldn't be a big deal; singers audition and play roles all the time."

"What you think Sue will think about you leaving?"

"No, she'll probably think I'm too weak," Rachel sadly replied, "She will think that I couldn't handle the stress of being a lead singer while being ignored by everyone. She expects me to suck it up and go with the flow. She's expected this from me since day one."

"When do you want to be gone?"

"If everything turns out right, by the end of the year."

"Jesus, Rachel…" Kurt trailed off, taking another cookie. "Are you sure you want to do this? I mean, you _are_ a part of one of the hottest girl groups in this country and perhaps the world."

"I know It's nice to have a long list of one number hits, but honestly, what is the point of being successful with the Cheerios, if I can't enjoy it? If there is one thing I learn from all my years at McKinley it is that money and success will not buy you happiness."

"But- what will happen to the Cheerios? What if- Rachel, you're the leader singer!"

Rachel tried her best not to roll her eyes. The only reason why Rachel was still the lead singer of the Cheerios was because of Will. Will was the one who convinced Billy that Rachel had a stronger voice and star quality than Quinn. If Sue had it her way, Rachel would simply be a backup singer.

"Quinn can be the leader of the Cheerios. I know Sue will salivate at the thought about that, and I'm sure she will be able to find another third member of the group." She gave her friend a comforting smile. "I know this will be a risk. Everything in this business is a risk, but I believe that becoming an actress on the stage is my calling."

* * *

"Sam!"

Sam stopped and turned around as Brittany ran up to him. He noticed Sue and Dave talking at the other side of the hall, watching Brittany with a smile on their faces. Those two made him sick, even more than Finn.

He wasn't able to greet his friend before the Cheerio spoke up. "Hey, what are you doing here? I thought you were off today."

Sam didn't plan to come to McKinley today. Dave had told New Directions yesterday that they had the day off, that was until this morning. Dave had called the group to come in at ten am for a short meeting about the tour. Sam didn't think much of it, details about a tour tended to change a lot weeks before it was launched. But he didn't expect _this_.

Sam glanced at his manager who was doing a horrible job trying not to look like he was eavesdropping. "Dave wanted to have a meeting with us. The others left, I'm about to leave."

"Are you going home?"

"Yeah," Sam paused then smiled. "I have to do something," he glanced at Dave again and frowned. "Did you hear about the tour?"

Brittany nodded. "Yes, I cannot believe this is happening. This has never happened before. I hope everything will turn out okay-" She stopped as she noticed Sam looking behind him. She turned around just to see their managers; she sighed and rolled her eyes. "My god, they should be the paparazzi instead of managers with all of the spying they do."

Sam took Brittany's hand, "Let's go somewhere. I need to talk to you about something." He led her to an empty room. He glanced back at Sue and Dave who were walking away smirking widely at each other. They were probably thinking they were going to have a lover's talk before "secretly" making out in the back room. He sighed before closing the door behind him. He ran his hand through his hair and looked up at Brittany.

"Sam, what is going on?"

Sam wandered around the small room for a bit, wondering how on earth he was going to start this conversation. He hoped it would end well. He was sure it would, Brittany was just as unhappy about this "romantic" arrangement as he was.

"Brittany…" he trailed off as Brittany pulled out a chair and sat down, crossing her legs and neatly folding her hands on top of them. She had an eyebrow raised as if waiting for Sam to tell her something horrible. "About this… us. We need to talk."

Brittany nodded. "Yes, Sam, we do."

Sam let out a sigh of relief. So it seemed that Brittany was sort of on the same page as he. "Brittany, I care about you a lot. You're like a sister to me, a McKinley and grown up version of Stacey-"

Brittany rubbed her hands together. "Is this about our fake relationship, because if it is, I'm glad you're mentioning this now," she continued as Sam stared at her in slight shock. "But before we get into _that_ conversation, I need to tell you something. And I hope you don't get mad about it, because I don't want you to lose you as a friend."

"I promise you won't."

Brittany gave Sam a sad smile, hoping she would be able to trust him. "It seems that you're not the only one who's infatuated with a Limette."

Sam blinked and when he finally realized what Brittany was hinting towards. He nearly fell off the table he forgot he was sitting on. "You like women…?" he slowly said, eyes wide, not believing what he just heard. "You're a- lesbian…?"

"No, I'm bisexual. There's a difference. I am perfectly content with being with both men and women."

"Does anyone…?"

"No, well only a few people. I trust that you won't tell anyone about this."

"No, of course not."

"Which one?" Sam asked, walking over to her and sitting down. He took Brittany's hands and rubbed them in a soothing manner. She looked shaken and was about to cry. "I won't tell, I swear to God, I won't. As long as it's not Mercedes, I'll be fine."

Brittany let out a small laugh as she got out of Sam's grasp to wipe her eyes. She didn't want to cry; her mascara would be ruined. "It's not Mercedes; she's yours. It's Santana."

"Santana," Sam gasped. He definitely didn't see that one coming. Santana, well, she was Santana. "Santana Lopez?"

Brittany meekly nodded before bursting into tears.

Sam panicked, thinking she was crying because of him. "Oh come on Brit, I didn't mean- It's not a big deal, oh why are you crying? Did I say anything wrong?"

Brittany shook her head and choked back some tears. "No, you did nothing wrong. It's just that- it's just that it's nice to tell someone this about worried about being hated. I know what they did to people who didn't like the opposite sex, it's horrible. They think we're sick."

"I know, Brit, I know." Sam pulled Brittany in a hug. "Don't worry about it, and trust me when I say, if someone dares to say or do anything, Santana will deal with it. She seems like the type to take on anyone."

Brittany let out a shaky laugh. "Yeah, she is. I do like her, a lot, like a way I am supposed to love a man. She doesn't think I'm a child or stupid. She actually listens to me, you know? We've been kind of together for about two weeks, and I haven't been happier. I only hope it stays that way."

"Everything's going to be fine, Brit," Sam reassured, squeezing his friend tight. "So… what are we going to do? You like Santana, and I've been trying to get Mercedes to go on a date with me for the past month."

"I don't know."

"Do you think we should break up?"

"You know we can't do that. Dave will most likely kill you, and Sue would ship me off to Soviet Union where I'll be a laborer somewhere out in Siberia." She shook her head. "No, we can't do that, at least not yet."

"You're right, stupid idea."

Brittany looked up and frowned. "Stop saying that word. I hate the word 'stupid.' I'm sure we can think of something."

* * *

"Can you believe that we're going on a cross country tour?" Tina asked, excited as she twirled around. To say she was ecstatic was an underestimate. As soon as she got home, she was going to call her parents and tell them the good news. They still weren't pleased with her choice of employment, but they had reduced their criticism as soon as they found out about the Limettes' early success.

"This ain't a cross country tour," Santana said. "We're only going up and down the eastern seaboard."

Tina gave Santana a dirty look. "Okay fine, we're only sticking to the east coast, but still, this is terrific news."

"It sure is," Mercedes said. "I just can't believe we're touring with so many people. I mean, is that even a good idea?"

Tina shrugged, wondering the same exact thing. The groups of McKinley Records, for the most part, weren't living in harmony especially when their managers insisted on butting heads every time they turned around.

"Good idea or not, this is a perfect opportunity for people to know how amazing we are," Santana said. "And since the Cheerios are tagging along, I get to spend more time with Brittany, without being suspicious."

Mercedes and Tina glanced at each other. Oh right, Brittany and Santana were "buddies" that liked to share "lady kisses" in the women's bathroom.

"You do know that Brittany is supposed to be with Sam, right?" Tina reminded her friend. Santana really needed to be careful; people around here weren't the most kind to those who liked to be involved with people from their same sex. "Dave and Sue are going to be watching her like the hawk for the entire time." She gave Mercedes a look. "In matter of fact, they are going to watch both Brittany _and_ Sam like a hawk."

Mercedes frowned, wondering what on earth Tina meant by that look. She wasn't the one sharing kisses with another member of another group, no matter what Santana and Kurt thought. "Tina's right," she said, "Sue isn't on good terms with us. We need to keep our distance from the Cheerios."

Santana brushed off her band mates concerned and continued walking through the library. The Limettes were allowed to leave early today, for reasons they did not know, though no one complained. It had been a long day.

While Tina and Santana continued talking about the upcoming tour, Mercedes kept to herself and stared at the clock for about ten minutes. She was a bit anxious. She had been feeling this way for the past few hours, while Will went over the Limettes' new song, during Holly's meeting about the tour and during the almost three hour session with Puck.

Mercedes grinned when the minute hand reached the eight. Yes, it was almost three o'clock, almost time to leave. She looked out of the main doors for Sam's driver. He said that the man was always punctual, so he should arrive in ten minutes.

Tina and Santana watched Mercedes watch the clock. The duo planned to leave soon and head home for the day. They had to rest up for the early and long day tomorrow. Tina decided not to question why Mercedes was having a staring contest with the clock, but Santana of course did the opposite.

"Why are you looking at the clock so hard?"

"I'm going out," Mercedes quickly replied. She dug in her purse for her shades and put them on. The sun was out in full force today, making a forty-degree afternoon felt ten degrees morning. It was nice this way, she didn't have to worry about wearing boots that she didn't have or a warm coat that she had yet to buy. She had a jacket more suitable for colder weather, but Kurt instantly removed it from her wardrobe, calling the clothing a travesty to the fashion world.

"Going out _where_?"

Mercedes gave Santana a look. She thought about lying, she swore she did, but this wasn't something she should lie about. It really wasn't a big deal. She sighed. "I'm going over to Sam's," and she continued before Santana could open her mouth, "And before you say anything, he only invited me over for dinner. Nothing more, nothing less."

Santana and Tina glanced at each other eyes wide, not knowing what to say.

Mercedes sighed again. This was exactly why she should have kept her mouth shut. "Look, it's only a-"

"But I thought you said that you didn't want to have anything to do with him," Tina commented. "Why did you agree?"

Mercedes groaned. "It was a silly thing. I was joking around with him about making me dinner because he claimed to be this amazing chef. I didn't think he actually took it seriously. He said that he would make me dinner before he goes on tour-"

"Before we go on tour," Tina corrected. "What time will you be back?"

"I shouldn't be too late," She took a piece of paper out of her purse. "All I'm going to do is eat some food. Here's his address and his phone number. His driver is going to pick me up and drop me home."

"He has a driver?"

Santana rolled her eyes. "Of course he has a driver. He has money," she smirked at Mercedes annoyed expression. "Oh my, trouty mouth really asked you out on a date…"

"Trouty -what?" Mercedes shook her head. "Santana, for the last time, this is not a date. He never asked me out on a date." Actually, he had several times, but Mercedes was not going to admit that aloud. Our relationship is strictly platonic. We are only having dinner as friends."

"Friends?"

"Yes Tina, Sam and I are friends." She glared at Santana who was smirking in that smug way of hers. Santana was the queen of jumping to conclusions and assuming things that were certainly not true. "Santana, don't you dare start."

"Look." Mercedes couldn't fool Santana; Mercedes couldn't fool anyone. "I think you two should do something about whatever you are," Santana stated, completely ignoring everything Mercedes just said. "And then your mama can finally stop pestering you about settling down. Because I am tired of hearing 'why aren't you get married?' from her and she's not even my mama."

"_Marriage_?" Mercedes exclaimed getting up from her seat and putting her hands on her hips. "Santana, are you crazy?"

Tina nodded.

Santana shrugged. She had been called worse.

"I cannot believe what I am hearing."

"Look," Santana said, shrugging again. According to her, there was nothing wrong with planning the future. "I don't know what your problem is. He likes you, you like him, and don't say you don't because I know you do. So instead of running away like your thirteen again, you better get on that before some white chick does."

"Actually Santana, according to everyone, someone's already beaten Mercedes to the punch," Tina commented, "Brittany is already Sam's girlfriend."

Santana scoffed. That little piece of information was insignificant to her. "Oh, it's not a big deal. She doesn't like him that way anyway."

"Of course it's a big deal. They're supposed to be dating, fake or not."

Santana brushed off Tina's comment. She didn't have time to worry about what everyone else claimed. "That doesn't count. They're only together because their managers have serious issues."

"You do you know that he is white... right?" Tina mumbled looking around to make sure that Holly or Dave or Sue was nowhere to be seen. This was definitely not a conversation the managers should hear. "I'm pretty sure that meeting with your mom will go _splendidly_. Oh I can just see it now. I think we need to hire a film crew just to tape the priceless look on your mom's face."

"_Tina_."

"Sorry. I'm only kidding." Tina quickly said. Her she turned her attention to Santana. "But on a serious note, can you imagine what will happen if this leaks into the public? The media, everyone at McKinley and Mercedes' mom, no entire family, will lose their minds and we can kiss our record deal, as well as singing careers, goodbye."

Santana rolled her eyes. Tina always liked to take things to the next level and exaggerate about the consequences of doing certain actions. She was more anxious about things than Mercedes. "It's not that serious."

Mercedes frowned at Santana. "Apparently, you aren't fully aware of this country's racial relations." She glanced at her watch and sighed in relief. Finally, she could leave. "Alright, it's three so I should be going right now. I'll call you at home as soon as I arrive at Sam's, okay?"

"Be careful," Tina said.

Mercedes nodded as she walked out of the door. She didn't have to wait too long before a car pulled up right in front of McKinley Building. She lowered she glasses to see if the driver fit the description Sam had given him.

"Good afternoon," the driver said getting out of the car. He walked to the other side and opened the back passenger door. "I'm Brody Weston, Mr. Evans' chauffeur. I presume you're Ms. Jones?"

"Yes, I am." She gave the driver a thanks as she entered the car as quickly as she could. The last thing she needed was someone noticing here. "How are you, Mr. Weston?"

"I'm good, and how are you?"

"Fine, but I had a long day."

"Me too," Brody turned the car on and started driving, "So Ms. Jones, how do you know Mr. Evans?"

"We're friends," Mercedes simply replied watching the driver's eyebrow raise through the rear view mirror. "Yes, friends."

The only response Mercedes received from the driver was a nod, and neither of them said another word for the duration of the ride. It was a comfortable silence. Mercedes did not know the driver well enough to start asking him more questions about his equally long day.

She looked through the windows, awed at the side of New York City she had never had the chance to see. She was used to the business parts of downtown Manhattan, Times Square area, not the best place to go unless you were into cabarets and live nude shows, and Harlem. She was used to seeing back to back traffic, full of cabs and cars and people crowding the streets.

She leaned in as the car passed the Metropolitan Museum of Art and Central Park. She had to admit, it was pretty around here. No wonder Sam wanted to live around this area. It was a lot hectic then the other places and had a lot less people.

Mercedes was startled when the car abruptly stopped in front of a high rise building. She glanced at Brody who turned off the ignition and opened the door. "We're here, Ms. Jones."

Mercedes was about to open the door and get out herself, but by the time she place her hand on the knob, Brody was already at the other side of door and opened it himself. She froze for a moment; it was a simple gesture, but she wasn't use to this kind of service at all.

She smiled at the driver as she got of the car. She took out a dollar and handed it to Brody. "Thank you very much, Mr. Weston."

Brody slight bowed. "The pleasure is all mine, Ms. Jones." Brody closed to the door. "Have a good afternoon."

Mercedes glanced back at the driver before staring up at the building in awe. Lima definitely didn't have buildings as tall as this, not even half. She took a deep breath and walked into the building.

"Can I help you, miss?"

Mercedes gave the doorman a small smile and showed him Sam's address. "I'm here to see Mr. Evans," she continued as the doorman stared intently at the paper. "

"Are you sure this is Mr. Evans' handwriting?"

Mercedes frowned. "If you're suspicious, you can call him and tell him that Ms. Mercedes Jones is here waiting in the lobby. I'm sure he won't have an issue."

The doorman didn't say anything. He roughly shoved the paper back in her hands and handed her a clip board. "Sign in, and make sure you only go to Mr. Evan's apartment. I don't want to hear about the other tenants complain about a robbery. I will check."

Mercedes thought it would be best to disregard the doorman's unnecessary comment. She quickly signed and walked away. She ignored the doorman's suspicious gaze as she approached the elevators. She didn't have time for people's ignorance.

* * *

"Hey, I'm so glad you made it," was the first thing Sam said as soon as he opened the door to his apartment. He opened the door wide so Mercedes could walk inside. "The food's almost done."

"I cannot thank you enough for this," Mercedes said. "I really can't."

"It's no problem, really. Did you get here okay?"

"Yes, Mr. Weston is a nice man."

"Yeah, he is," Sam said with a nod. "What about Mr. Clark, the door man. I hope he didn't give you any trouble. He can be crabby to those he's never seen before."

"It was nothing I haven't experienced before."

The moment she walked in, Mercedes inhaled deeply. It smelled heavenly in here and Mercedes was grateful that she only had a small breakfast and had skipped lunch. "I hope the food tastes as good as it smells."

"I sure hope so too," Sam said offering to take Mercedes jacket. He hung it up on the rack. "I had to call my mom to see if I was doing everything right."

Mercedes smiled warmly and pulled out a bottle of wine from her purse- one of the good reasons why she preferred bigger bags. She handed it to Sam. It was nothing special, but it was something. "Here, it's for you."

"Thanks Mercy, but you didn't have to bring anything."

"It's only polite." She stood up tall, trying not to fall to her side. Her feet were getting fired of the shoes she was wearing. "Do you mind if I take these off?" She asked, lifting up one foot. She absolutely loved these heels, it was her first pair and decided she should she wear them every way. Unfortunately, they were heels and these heels were not meant to be worn all day. "My feet are killing me."

"Sure. You can put them near the door."

"Thank you so much. My feet are forever in your debt."

She cursed under her breath in embarrassment as she heard Sam burst into laughter as he went into the kitchen. She shook her head and walked throughout the apartment. It was a nice-sized two bedroom apartment, probably about twice the size of the place Mercedes was staying it. The apartment had a large kitchen and living room with an open dining room in the middle. The living room had a lovely view of Central park and other high-rise buildings in the distance. The sun was already sitting and for a moment, Mercedes wished she could have a place like this. She loved watching sunsets. "This view is amazing."

"One of the reasons why I got this place."

"It's nice," Mercedes commented turning around and walking around the large living room. It was not as decorated as Brittany's or Kurt's place, but it was nice and simple. "It's a cute place."

"I'm glad you like it."

"How long have you lived here?"

"For about three months," Sam said from the kitchen. He walked into the dining area with a large pan of candy yams and placed it on the table. "I used to have a bigger place, closer to McKinley, but then I soon realized that having a five bedroom penthouse for one person was a bit too much."

"Oh, I see. Do you need help with anything?"

"You can set the table if you want."

"Did you hear about the tour?" Mercedes asked as soon as she entered the kitchen. It was huge; at least twice the size of her bedroom. There should be no reason why a kitchen should be this _big_. She leaned against the kitchen door frame and watched Sam turn off the oven. "And where are the plates?"

Sam opened the oven and pulled the ham out. He pointed to the dishes on the counter. "Use those, they're clean. I'm promise. And to answer your first question, yes I've heard about the tour. Crazy, huh?"

"Yeah, I know. Holly was still in disbelief when she was telling us. Apparently, this is going to be the biggest tour McKinley has had in a while."

Sam nodded while cutting the ham into slices. "Dave's not happy about this, and rumor has it, Sue is really not happy about this. But I'm glad the Limettes are coming along. There's only so much of the Warblers and the Cheerios I can handle."

"I thought you were friends with the Warblers?"

"Only one of them, Blaine. I'm okay with Hunter," He replied. "But trust me when I say, the Warblers are a mess, even more than the Cheerios and my group. You'll see in a couple of weeks."

"What happened to my cake?" she asked with mocking disappointment. "I really love cake and I was expecting to have some tonight. Sam, I am so disappointed in you."

Sam laughed and played along. "Oh Mercy, I told you I can't bake if my life depended on it."

"It's okay. I'll forgive you just this once. One day, I'll help you with the cake," Mercedes offered. "Luckily for you, I just happen to be very good at baking; a trait I got from my father. I teach you how to make real red velvet cake using a recipe that has been passed down from my family for generations."

"You're going to tell me the family secret? Isn't that against the law?"

"Of course it is. I'm going to make you turn around when I put in the secret ingredient. I don't want my dad's ghost visiting at night, mad because I let the secret out."

"Sounds like a plan." Sam moved closer to his guest and wiggled his eyebrows. "So when we're going to do this? Preferably before the tour?"

"Oh, you would like that, wouldn't you?" Mercedes teased, lightly pinching Sam's nose. She laughed at Sam shook his head in mock shame. "I'll see how my schedule is. According to Holly, we're going to get our butts kicked for the next two weeks."

"That's tour-prep for you." Sam put the knife in the sink and carried the ham into the dining area with Mercedes following close by. "No matter how many times you do it, it always sucks."

As Mercedes set the table, Sam continued to bring all of the food back. He was kidding when he said he would make a three course meal. Mercedes watched him go in and out of the kitchen with more food and drinks once she finished her job.

"I can't believe you did all this."

"Why not?" He placed the plate full of biscuits that he had managed to convince Ms. Lucy to make. Of course she didn't know _why_ he needed them; if she did she probably wouldn't make them, at least not for a nice discount. "I said I'd make you dinner, and so I did. I'm a man of his word. Okay, sit down Mercy. I'm starving."

Mercedes giggled as Sam made he wait for him to pull out her chair despite her protests. She protested even more when Sam grabbed her plate and put everything on it. So much for her diet, Mercedes shook her head, she could splurge for a day.

"Thank you so much."

She had to admit. Sam wasn't lying. Everything tasted so good, especially the candied yams. "Did your mom teach you how to cook?"

"Yes, she did."

"She taught you well," Mercedes replied, taking another biscuit. Shannon was going to kill her Monday, but a part of her didn't care. She was finally having real food, not the stuff she had to eat to keep up with her diet. She promised she wouldn't go overboard, but she was going to enjoy herself.

"Thank you. How's your mom?"

"She's fine, thanks."

"How about your brother?"

"My mama received a letter from him last week." Mercedes paused as she played with the collard greens with her fork. She really did miss her brother. "Hopefully, he'll be back home by the end of next year, but will all of this war talk, I don't think he's going to come back to Lima anytime soon. Will you keep him in your prayers?"

"You don't even have to ask."

Mercedes smiled sadly. "Thank you."

Sam continued eating as he and Mercedes remained silent. Maybe he should not have asked her about her brother at this time. He knew how much she worried about him being in Vietnam, and understandably so. He glanced up at her and grinned, deciding to change the subject. "Do you want to hear a funny story?"

Mercedes blinked as she reached for a piece of ham. Oh, how much she loved ham. "Yes, go ahead. Tell me, I love funny stories."

"A few years ago, on April fool's day, Artie and I decided to play a little prank on Dave and Finn. And let me tell you, it was amazing…"

Sam couldn't help smile as Mercedes roared with laughter over his story about pranking Finn and Dave. He had to admit, it was pretty funny idea to pour red hair dye in the two men's shampoos until Dave found out it was him and Rory and everything went downhill from there, but it was worth it.

"My Lord, you can't be serious!" Mercedes exclaimed before another laughing fit. It took her a few moments to get her laughter under control. "What did they do?"

"Finn, being the drama queen he is, threw a fit. I mean, I've seen Finn mad before, but not like this. Of course Rory and I thought the entire thing was funny because both Finn's face and hair were bright red. Rory wanted to get a picture of the red fuzz of hair on top of Dave's head, but he found out and instantly threw the camera out of the window."

"Did you two get in trouble?"

"Oh yeah, but it was reduced thanks to Emma. She also thought it was a harmless joke and believed that suspending me and Artie without pay for a harmless prank was too harsh. The suspension was cut in half."

"You two are too much."

Sam sat back and watched Mercedes tried to collect herself from her laughter. When she finally got it under control, she looked at him a wide smile on her face. He couldn't help but grin back.

He couldn't understand how Sue would make such cruel remarks about Mercedes. Or about how Finn and Artie thought he could do better. He concluded that they were too blind to understand how amazing and beautiful Mercedes Jones was.

"Has everyone ever told you how beautiful you look when you smile?"

"You're just full of compliments, aren't you?" Mercedes replied. She didn't bother asking Sam why he would ask something like that. They were supposed to be having a strictly platonic dinner.

"I try my best."

Mercedes leaned in. "If you must know, I heard that same question from my mama, Santana and Tina, Kurt and Shane…"

"Who is Shane…?"

Mercedes leaned back and sighed. Of course she would mention Shane. "Shane was my high school sweetheart. We were together for all four years."

"Wow," Sam nodded impressed. And he wasn't even mocking her. He had seen way too many relationships fall apart after the first six months, including marriages. "You guys went strong."

"Yeah, we did."

"What was he like?"

"Quiet and very polite. He got along with everyone. My mama loved him. Still to this day, she asks me if I plan to reconcile with him, get married and give her some grand babies." Mercedes smiled then laughed at the thought. Her mother was certainly something else. "He was a star of our high school football team, and even got recruited to play in Georgia- I forgot the name of the school."

"What position did he play?"

"Linebacker."

"Nice."

"Yeah... I don't know what that position means. He tried to explain it to me, countless times, and I each time I looked at home as if he was speaking Chinese."

Sam laughed.

"I used to go to all of his games, and watched some college games on the television." She shook her head and let out a bashful laugh. "Even after all of that, I still don't know what is going on. Except for the scoring- I know about touch downs and field goals, but don't ask me about anything else."

"I'll teach you about football. You'll be an expert in no time."

Mercedes smiled in appreciation. She really did want to know about the sport that almost all of the men she knew with the exception of Kurt, who liked to watch all male sports for other reasons, were obsessed with. That and basketball, though she could kind of figure out basketball a lot better than football.

"Speaking of football, do you if think if you had stuck with it you would've been happier?"

"I honestly don't know." Sam stared and paused for a few moments. "I do miss it though. I was good at it, but if I was supposed to be a football player then I would've been one already. In the end, I chose music."

"To support your family."

"Well, yeah I did but I do like singing and playing the guitar. And the music business isn't but, it's just that unfortunately in order to get ahead you have to do things you don't want to do."

"Like date someone for the publicity."

"Yeah…"

Mercedes understood where he was coming from. Brittany had told her the same thing as well as Marley. They all had to make sacrifices in order to become famous; it just how it worked.

She decided to change the subject. "So, since you know about my very short romantic history, tell me about yours?"

Sam looked up with a raised eyebrow and leaned back in his seat. "Damn, I have to, don't I?" He sighed when Mercedes nodded eagerly. "I had a couple- several girlfriends here and there in high school. None of them were serious. Oh, and I dated Quinn for a month."

Mercedes nearly choked on her mash potatoes. She quickly put fork down and washed everything down with water. "_What_?"

"It only lasted for a month." He shrugged. "That was about a couple of years ago, when I first came to McKinley. She was the prettiest one there so I thought I gave it a try."

"Was the prettiest?" Mercedes said, laughing a bit. Sue would be appalled by the usage of Sam's past tense. "She's still not the prettiest? Dave and Sue and everyone else seem to be fawning over Quinn's beauty."

"She was up until a month ago, and then you came along."

Mercedes deeply blushed and pretended that the food on her plate was the most interesting thing in the world. She hated when she received compliments from Sam. It never failed to make her become flustered.

She had a few more bites of food before continuing, "W- what happened between you two, you and Quinn?"

"Let's just say that Quinn was more into producers than guitar players," he said appearing to be amused by Mercedes still flustered state. "But it was for the best. Saved me a lot of drama."

"When did Brittany come in?"

"About six months ago. Sue and Dave thought it would be wonderful for me and Brittany to be involved romantically. They wanted the media to go crazy, and it worked. We're only second to Finn and Quinn in this popularity contest. And apparently Dave wants me to propose to her by the end of the year."

Mercedes glanced down at her lap. So it seemed that Kurt was right all along. Dave and Sue were hell-bent in getting the two "couples" married before the year ended. Well, that was certainly inconvenient for her. "Are you going to do it…?" she asked quietly.

She shouldn't really be asking this.

"Do what?"

"Ask Brittany to be your wife?"

"I'll ask you before I'll ask her."

"I'll take that as a no."

"Which part? The part when I ask you or the past when I ask her," Sam replied, smirking as Mercedes stared at him appalled. _God_, he loved getting under her skin. "Mercy, you don't have to worry about me proposing to Brittany. Brittany- she's about as close to a sister as one can get. Being involved with her is like being involved with a blood relative. And I'm not into incest."

"Well, thank the Lord for that." Mercedes winked as she put a spoonful of candied yams on her plate. "We should do this again," she said, "I'll cook for you next time, but only if you let me do it here. The kitchen back in my place isn't too hot, and I'm sure the stove is still not working."

Sam poured Mercedes a glass of wine upon her request. "Whatever you like, Mercy, whatever you like."

Artie was right. Sam was playing with fire. He knew he shouldn't be doing this. He should be cooking for Brittany and preparing their wedding vows. He was sure he was going to receive some questionable looks from the doorman and Brody. He just hoped the news did not find its way to Dave; he was fine with butting heads with Finn, because he was _Finn_, but he wasn't ready to deal with Dave.


	10. Chapter 10

**CHAPTER NINE  
**

"I appreciate that all of you have decided to arrive here early," Emma said gratefully as she led the managers to a secluded corner at the side of McKinley's garbage. She didn't want to look like she was having a top secret meeting but the noise caused by the movers and people directing was getting to her. She liked silence when she had something important to say.

All five managers glanced at each other.

Emma let out a deep breath and continued, "We will be leaving here shortly." She opened her folder and handed each manager a piece of paper. "Here's the seating chart, hotel reservations as well as the itinerary for the tour. We will all be staying at the same hotel. Our first stop is Boston. You will only have part of the morning and the afternoon to yourselves before you and your acts have to prepare for the show. Tomorrow night's show is going to be smaller than usual, but the next day we will be performing at a larger venue in downtown Boston."

"And how are we getting there?" Cooter asked glancing back at the two buses parked along the street. He sure hoped Emma didn't expect him to travel in _those_.

Holly nodded, wondering the same thing. It was too late to go to an airport or catch a train. She wished they could have left a lot earlier. Boston was only about four to five hours away from here. They could have left in the afternoon, but no, Emma had insisted for traffic reasons that they would leave after midnight.

"We have two buses," Emma replied, ignoring the frustrated looks on all of the managers' faces, "One for us and the other for the band, Kurt and the hair and makeup crew as well as all of the instruments."

Out of everyone, Sue looked the most disappointed by the news. "What about my Cheerios?" She sneered at the other managers who all rolled their eyes. "You can't honestly expect McKinley's most successful group to travel on the bus with the other groups?"

Emma frowned. "Like I said, we only have two buses. The Cheerios will be traveling in the same fashion as everyone else." She turned her attention to the other mangers. "Does anyone else have any other questions?"

Every manager with the exception of Sue, who crossed her arms across her chest and deeply scowled, shook his or her head.

Emma smiled. "Good, now make sure your acts are ready in ten minutes. It is imperative for us to leave on time. We cannot afford any setbacks during this tour," and with that, she left the managers and headed towards the boarding area.

Emma shouldn't be surprised that the moment she arrived to the parking lot, everything and everyone was going crazy. The scene in front of McKinley Records parking lot was nothing short of chaotic. The movers were quickly putting the luggage into the bus' hold while, Kurt, dear Kurt tried to make sure the men didn't just throw his things around. Many of the singers were bringing their luggage out of cars. Finn and Artie were arguing about something, nothing of significance, Emma decided as she walked around the area, making sure everything was going according to plan.

Emma didn't question the chaos. The McKinley tour was about to start off, and everyone, especially Emma, wanted to leave on time. The drive to their first destination, Boston, was a long one and the last thing anyone needed was to leave late and arrive at their first show even later.

(Emma was determined more than ever to make sure that everything went as smooth as possible. She needed to prove to Holly that no, McKinley Records could handle having five of its bigger acts on one tour.)

"You have to be careful with that bag," Kitty yelled as she tried to catch up with one of the movers. She almost bumped into Emma and offered her an apology before shouting on the top of her lungs. "The contents in there cost more than your salary!"

Emma only shook her head and walked away.

"Isn't she the most gracious thing to ever walk the earth?" Marley mumbled to Rachel, picking up her suitcase and walking towards the boarding area.

Rachel tried not to pay Kitty any mind, but she was so loud. That woman always thought that she was the younger clone of Quinn. She didn't know why. Sure, Quinn was beautiful and talented and could be pleasant to be around with at times, but that woman had a ton of issues. They all did.

"I thought Sugar was supposed to breed us women into good-mannered citizens," she said shaking her head as Kitty continued to argue with the mover. "It's obvious that she's failed with her."

While Marley and Rachel continued to watch Kitty harass everyone in her path, at the other side of the tour bus, Holly conducted a short meeting with the Limettes. They had been changes to some of the plans, and of course she just found out this morning (because God forbid that anyone would notify her about the changes yesterday when she was organizing everything).

"We will be traveling up North first then we'll go down south," Holly said reading off the itinerary in her hands as loudly as she could without shouting as the moving crew worked behind her filling the bus with the luggage. "We'll be in the north for a little less than a week. The first city will be Boston, then from there we're going to be in Western New York for a few days visiting Rochester and Buffalo."

"What time will we be arriving in Boston?" Mercedes asked, moving aside as one of the workers dragged three large suitcases along with him with a very demanding Sue following close by.

"If God wills it, by four tomorrow morning."

"How many nights are we staying in this city?"

"Just for two. Tonight's show is going to be in the grand ballroom of this hotel and tomorrow is going to be at a bigger venue downtown."

"Are we going to be in the same hotel?"

"I don't see why not." Holly shrugged then groaned as she heard Emma called out her name. She gave her group an apologetic look. "Sorry, have to go. Make sure you are all on the bus in five.

The Limettes watched their manager rush to Emma then quickly dispersed. Santana ever so elegantly declared that she had to use the bathroom before she use it on herself and Tina, disgusted, said that she was going to board the bus and left, leaving Mercedes alone.

Mercedes picked up her carry-on, a simple large purse, and walked along the sidewalk until she caught sight of Kurt standing around a heap of suitcases.

"Kurt," She shouted in excitement. She waved when she got the stylist's attention. "I can't believe it. You're coming on the tour too?"

"Of course I am, Diva," Kurt said smiling. He handed one of the workers his bags and warned him to gently put his things away. "I can't just stay here and let everyone go on stage looking like fools."

It suddenly made sense to her. Of course Kurt would come along with the tour. He was McKinley's stylist. Someone had to make sure everyone's outfits for the show was on point, and no offense to Kurt's assistant, Karen- she was sweetheart, but she couldn't handle all of the stress of styling multiple acts by herself.

"Hello, Ms. Jones… and Kurt."

Mercedes and Kurt turned around and watched Blaine in silence as he gave Kurt a small smile as he walked past him to join the rest of his band.

"What was that about?" Mercedes asked.

Kurt looked distracted as he continued to sort out the suitcases. "Nothing. At least nothing for me." He sighed. "He's been trying to get me to go on a date with him ever since he got back from the tour. But I refuse to give him any time of the day, not after what he did."

"I don't blame you." She turned around just to see Blaine, as well as some of the Warblers, staring at her and Kurt. She gave them a confused look and asked, now officially curious about what on earth was going on between that group and Kurt. "So, what's up with you and the Warblers?"

"Nothing," Kurt said all too quickly. "I plan to stay as far away from the Warblers during this as much as possible," Kurt declared, purposely ignoring Mercedes' question. "They have more drama than the Cheerios and I never thought I would see the day when I admitted _that_."

Mercedes fought the urge to glance back at the group. "It is true that they're all… you know?"

"Like men?" Kurt sighed. "I don't even know. I try not to talk to them on a daily basis so I really don't know about all of their sexual orientations. All I know it that everyone has experimented at one point," he paused, "Actually, I think that Sebastian and Blaine are the only ones who are one hundred percent homosexual. The rest- I don't know what's going on with them."

"Wow," Mercedes said honestly surprised. She had thought it was a rumor, but then again, it was a rumor from Brittany. Rumors from Brittany tended to be true. "It looks like Cooter had his work cut out for him."

"Oh, you have no idea…" Kurt trailed off when he realized Sue, followed by Dave, marched in his direction. "Sue's coming. I highly advise you scurry away before she gives us some speech about why the Cheerios are perfect or whatever."

Mercedes nodded. Sue would do something like that. "Good point," and with that she went back to the rest of her group who were lining up in front of the bus.

"I still don't understand why we can't take the plane," Quinn complained while she boarded the bus. She scrunched up her nose in disgust, realizing that tour buses were a far cry from the private planes she was used to. "It's going to take forever to get to Boston. If we were on a plane we would've been there in a few hours."

Rachel and Brittany, who were both behind Quinn, gave each other looks but did not say anything.

And Quinn, she ignored all of the groans from the others behind Rachel and Brittany. She didn't care what anyone thought. She deserved to be traveling in style, not a tour bus full of people she rather would not see.

Much to Emma's surprise, everyone boarded the bus pretty quickly. She didn't have to wait for anyone to show up late or demand to travel in another vehicle (Sue had tried to convince her to let the Cheerios have their own bus but Emma had ignored her).

Emma thanked the bus driver for his services while she walked onto the bus. She waited patiently as everyone settled into their respected seat. The managers sat towards the front of the bus along with Emma. The Cheerios, Kitty and Marley sat behind them. The Warblers took over the middle section followed by the Limettes and New Directions, well half of them. Artie had requested earlier to sit in the front with Dave for a reason no one bothered to investigate, and Finn took it upon himself to sit next to his girlfriend, Quinn. Of course he did not receive any protests from Dave and Sue who thought the entire thing was "adorable."

Sam didn't complain about the seat change. Actually, he was more that grateful. Now, he didn't have to worry about getting interrogated by Finn over trivial matters or get thrown under the bus with his boss only thirty feet away by Artie, who didn't agree with how Sam was living his life. Plus, he had an entire row to himself and the only person who in the rear of the bus was Rory. Sam liked Rory; he was the most sensible member of New Directions.

"May I please have everyone's attention," Emma said in a loud voice as soon as everyone settled down. She waited a few moments for the bus to become quiet and for everyone's undivided attention. "Good afternoon, fellow members of the McKinley Records' family. I trust that you all are just as excited as I am about this upcoming tour." She continued as some people nodded in agreement. "As soon as the bus behind us finish loading, we will be on our way to our first destination of the McKinley Tour of 1964, Boston, Massachusetts..."

Mercedes sighed and glanced at her band mates with slight apprehension as Emma continued to speak about the tour. She should be excited for this opportunity. No, more than that, she should be thrilled. It was an amazing opportunity and she had to do everything in her power to take advantage of it. But she would be lying if she said she wasn't a bit scared. It wasn't the tour itself that scared her, it was everything else. She knew- she could feel it in her bones- that having all of the major acts together on me tour was a recipe for disaster, especially since most of them didn't get along with other groups. She had voiced her fears to her band mates, but as expected, Tina and Santana had assured her that everything was going to be fine.

It didn't make her feel better.

"…but in order to make sure this tour goes as smoothly as possible, we have to address some things. As you all may know, this is one of the most anticipated tours of the year," Emma announced, "Every show is sold out, and I'm positive that each venue is going to be swamped with photographers and reporters. We must be on guard and on our best behavior. You know how the reporters are; they will make a story out of anything. Also, the shows in Baltimore, Boston and Norfolk will be at the hotel we will be staying at. Therefore, we don't have to worry about meeting up after the show. Once the show is over, you can reside in your rooms. If you intend to leave the hotels for any reason, you must notify your managers and get their permission. Are they any questions?"

Mercedes had only been on this bus for two hours and all she wanted to do was jump off and find a hotel that wouldn't have any issue letting her stay in one of the rooms. The seats, although cushioned, didn't compare to her bed.

It was early in the morning. Mercedes couldn't sleep. She already took an uncomfortable nap during the first part of the bus ride and immediately was regretting it. And to make matters worse, Sue and Artie were snoring their heads off so she couldn't even attempt to sleep if she wanted to.

It was too dark to attempt to read a book, and she couldn't even try to use the moon as a light source for it was a moonless night. She sighed to herself as she looked around the bus. Everyone was doing what she should be doing on. Every person was asleep or on the verge of sleeping. All of the managers upfront were snoozing away, even Sue who had declared earlier that she would stay up all night just to make sure nothing unacceptable was going on.

Mercedes looked around the bus to see if there was someone, anyone who was just as awake as she was. She glanced at the seats behind her and smiled. So, it seemed like Sam was unable to sleep too. He wasn't really doing anything, just staring into spacing, occasionally glancing out of the window.

She had a sudden up to get up out of her seat and see how Sam was doing. They hadn't been able to see each other, only a few times, in the past week. Everything was so crazy with the tour preparations, the Limettes didn't even have time to say hello to the other groups.

It would be nice to say hi to him and catch up on things, but then Mercedes remembered, she was in bus full of people who would most certainly not approve of her plans-

But she was bored, and it didn't look like her body or mind wanted to rest anytime soon. And from the looks of it, Sam was in the same predicament. Maybe she should just pay him a quick visit.

It was a risky move, but Mercedes convinced herself that as long as she was quiet, nothing would happen to her and no one else would wake up. She looked around again to see if anyone else was awake. Thankfully, no one was. She quietly unbuckled her beat and slowly slid off her shoes, thankful that she was wearing tights so her feet wouldn't get too dirty.

She did one last scanned of the bus' passengers before slowly tip toeing to the back of the bus, holding onto the top of each seats so she wouldn't fall every time the bus jumped.

It wasn't until Mercedes were a few seats away did Sam notice her. She watched his face lit up as she walked closer to him. Mercedes fought back a yelp when the bus drove over a bump. She gripped the nearest seat and quickly sat down next to Sam.

"Hey."

"Hey." Mercedes shifted her seat, leaned in and whispered, "Is this…okay?"

"Yeah, you're fine," Sam whispered back, looking over his seat. Everyone else on the bus seemed dead to the world. He couldn't blame them. It was three in the morning, and everyone needed to be well rested for the first stop of the tour. "What do you think you're doing, sneaking around the bus?"

Sam glanced behind Mercedes and noticed Rory giving them a brief sleepy look before turning to his other side and going back to sleep.

"Just wanted to say hi, and I couldn't sleep." Mercedes moved closer to Sam. "But if you want me to leave, I can always go back."

"I never want you to leave, Mercy."

Mercedes didn't say anything. She leaned her head on Sam's shoulder and wrapped both of her arms around Sam and leaned on her head on his shoulder. She let out a small but content sigh when she felt Sam put his arm around her shoulder. She let him hold her with any protest.

"I wish I can hold you like this forever..."

She stared at the back of the seat in front of her as Sam kissed the top of her head.

That was Mercedes' cue to get back into her seat.

Mercedes reluctantly pulled her back catching a glimpse of disappointed on Sam's face when the bus drove past a street light. "I have to go back," she whispered as if she wanted to apologize for stopping whatever type of moment she was sharing with him.

As expected, Sam wasn't hearing any of it. "Five more minutes."

"_Sam_..."

"Only five and I won't bother you for the rest of the ride."

"You promise?"

"I'm horrible at keeping promises."

"I thought you were a man of your word."

"I am, but only on some cases."

"I don't think it works like that."

"You don't?"

"No, you can't pick and choose when you want to be a man of your word. It's not a part-time thing." Mercedes slowly removed Sam's arms from around her. A part of her didn't want to do it. She had felt comfortable in her arms- so comfortable that she was moments away from falling asleep just like everyone on the bus. But she had to go. She was here for far longer than she had deemed safe.

"Do you have to...?" Sam mumbled against her.

She looked up and nodded. "Yeah, I do," she rose from her seat and gave Sam one last remorseful look before quietly returning back to her seat.

"Good morning, everyone! Welcome to Boston!"

Mercedes slowly opened her eyes and attempted to shield the bright sunlight peering through the windows with her hands. Her attempts were in vain. She grumbled to herself and sat up her seat and looked over the seats to see Emma standing in front of the aisle with her usual clipboard in her hand.

Mercedes yawned and stretch as everyone else began to wake up and do the same. It had to be around six o'clock in the morning.

"I hope you all had a nice sleep," Emma said, paying no mind to the annoyed looks some people were giving her for waking tem up at such an early hour. "We will be able to get off this bus very soon." She pursed her lips together in irritation as she was cut off by a loud shriek coming from outside.

Great, _they_ were here.

Tina poked Mercedes and Santana on the shoulder and pointed out the window. "Mercedes, Santana, look out the window."

Santana and Mercedes leaned over to look outside and stared in awe as they watched a large crowd approaching the bus as it slowly pulled in front of the hotel. Most of the people had cameras and notepads. The others stood behind a tape separating them from the street so the bus wouldn't run them over.

Scores of people lined up near the entrance with their cheers and their posters demanding members of their favorite band to come off the bus- to no one's surprise, the crowd was really begging the warblers and new directions to show their faces.\

"My God."

"This is insane."

"There are so many people..." Tina commented as she watched some of the hotel guards attempt to control the crowd. So far it looked like the crowd full of young women and reporters was winning the battle.

"Okay, everyone," Emma announced, still annoyed, "We can leave right now. Remember to take everything with you. Although we will be using this bus for the duration of the tour, try not to leave anything behind."

The moment Brittany got off the bus, she was met by a huge crowd. She had to admit, she was a bit surprised. The crowded tended to prefer Quinn over her and Rachel, but she guessed this had more to do with that horrible rumor that Sam was going to propose to her by the end of the year.

She put on a wide smile, whether it was fake or nit, Brittany didn't really know. Maybe it was a bit of both. She stopped to sign a few autographs. She was sure she was smiling for real right now. She loved giving our autographs; it made it remember that she was still important in some people's mind. She stopped mid-signing when she noticed Sam walking in her direction. It was show time.

"Sam, darling!" She called out, waving at him. She put on a fake, excited grin as the man looked at her, realizing what she was doing. She called out his name at him again, gesturing him towards her. He didn't look very enthusiastic, and in all honestly, neither was she, but their managers expected a scene. "Come here!"

The paparazzi instantly took pictures of Sam approaching Brittany.

"Are we seriously doing this now?" Sam whispered into Brittany's ear, walking to the other side of the singer to let some photographers take a picture of him.

"Just smile and look handsome, dear." Brittany pulled Sam, who looked like he was going to walk away, back and whispered in his ear, "Sam, hold my hands," she sighed when Sam gave her a confused look. "We need to look like we're madly in love, duh."

"But do we have to hold hands?"

Brittany gave her friend a long look. Of course Sam didn't understand how important it was to think that their managers were dealing with one of the "hottest" couples in the business. "Yes, we do. It's either this, or make out, which I really don't want to do."

"Fine, we'll hold hands."

Brittany smiled triumphantly and held Sam's hand. "We have to act romantic during this tour so Sue and Dave and everyone else won't get suspicious."

Sam couldn't argue against that even if he wanted to.

After a minute or so, Brittany let Sam go. "Put your arm around my waist," she ordered, pulling Sam closer. She put on the most believable smile she could make as the photographer went crazy over the couple's public display of affection.

"Give us a kiss!"

Brittany nodded at everyone, gave Sam and apologetic look and gave exactly what the photographers and the paparazzi wanted.

Dave and Sue watched the scene from the bus, proud that their little publicity stunt was still intact.

"They are going to be married by the end of the summer. Book on it," Sue announced, unexpectedly smiling at the two "lovebirds" as they whispered sweet nothing to each other. She smiled even more as a mass of photographers swarmed around the couple. "Oh my, I can already see the magazine covers. They are going to demand an exclusive spread I just know it, and if Britney gets pregnant, after being married of course, people are going to lose their minds."

Emma and Cooter rolled their eyes before walking into the hotel.

Everyone didn't pay attention to Sam and Brittany's "public display of affection" except for Mercedes and Santana. Santana was more annoyed than Mercedes, not necessarily at Sam. The man looked like he wanted to be anywhere besides in Brittany's arms. She was more pissed off at the crowd who kept on egging them on.

"I can't believe what I'm seeing," she snorted with disgust as she watched Sam give Brittany another kiss. "Can you?"

Mercedes gave Santana a looked before turning around and thanking one of the hotel employees for taking her things out of the bus. She said after giving him a small tip. "Yes, I can. They're dating. People kiss when they're dating."

Santana rolled her eyes and picked up her bags. "But they're not-"

"Santana, this is not the time or place to start with that," Mercedes snapped, giving one last look at the "couple." She knew Brittany and Sam were simply but it didn't stop her from feeling a pang of hurt in her chest. She shook her head, frowned and picked up her suitcase. "Complaining about it isn't going to change anything. Now let's go."

Ten minutes later, after the crowded finally dispersed, everyone lined up in double-file and walked into the hotel. It was a four star hotel, right on the outskirts of the city. Emma had specifically picked this hotel because of its small venue. Only a few hundred people could fit inside the auditorium. Tonight's show was going to be a test drive to see if all of the groups could perform without any issues.

The Limettes looked around the hotel with amazement. It was truly the nicest hotel they had ever been. Holly turned around and smiled at the expressions on her girls' face and continued walking until she was stopped.

She raised an eyebrow in confusion as the receptionist blocked the entrance leading to the check-in desks, letting the rest of the guest walk past him. He crossed his arms and said in an impassive voice. "I apologize for the inconvenience, but you are not to enter the main lobby. You are not allowed to check into this hotel."

The Limettes glanced at each other.

"Good afternoon, sir, my name is Mercedes Jones. I am part of the Limettes," Mercedes said, gesturing the rest of her group by her side and Holly. "We are scheduled to performance here in the grand ballroom tonight as a part of the McKinley Records Tour. We will only be spending one night here. That's all."

"Yes, I am aware of the show tonight, but-"

Holly, having enough with this conversation, pushed her way through to the front. "Is there a problem, sir?"

"Apparently we're not allowed to check into this hotel," Santana said glaring at the receptionist.

Holly narrowed her eyes. "I'm sure hope that's not the case."

"I apologize, miss, but this group can perform here tonight, but they will not be allowed to check into any rooms. It's hotel policy."

"What do you mean the Limettes can't stay here?"

The receptionist cleared his throat. "We have to make sure that our patrons have the most pleasurable experience in our hotels. I fear that having some people who are- from another group of people will make some of our customers feel not at home and uncomfortable, and perhaps request to make appropriate changes."

"I don't care how uncomfortable some people will feel," Holly snapped, scaring the receptionist with her glare. She didn't have time to worry about other people's feelings. She had a job to do. "The Limettes didn't travel all the way from New York just to be told that they can't stay in a hotel they will be performing at because they're not white."

"But Ms. Holli-"

"Don't Ms. Holliday me," Holly snapped. She gave a dirty look to some patrons walking past her and giving her odd looks.

"But you have to understand-"

"Look, we are only here for two days," Mercedes said sternly, not caring if the receptionist was giving her a dirty look for cutting him off. "If you don't let us stay here, we don't perform here. And I'm sure you're uncomfortable guests wouldn't appreciate not getting that they've paid for tonight's show because of this hotel's polices."

The receptionist refused to look at Mercedes. He let out a defeated sigh. "No, they wouldn't."

"I didn't think so." Mercedes grinned triumphantly. "So, can you do us a favor and find us three rooms?"

Holly cut in before the receptionist could attempt to protest. "Two rooms with double beds and one single room. It's April. I know it doesn't get crowded here until at least June."

"Sure," the receptionist curtly replied, stepping aside. "Please, follow me."

"I can't believe that actually worked," Mercedes whispered to Santana as they walked to the check-in desk.

Santana smiled proudly. "Ay Dios, I swear that fool was about to piss on his pants when you told him off. I was going to go ahead and give him a piece of my mind, but I think what you did was much more… professional."

Tina shook her head while Mercedes laughed.

"Good afternoon, Quinn."

"It's eleven thirty, still morning."

"I'm sorry. _Good morning_, Quinn."

Quinn leaned against the door, annoyed as she waited for Artie to try to come up with a proper way to voice out his request. She knew what he wanted. There was only one reason why he would visit her. "I don't have any heroin, if that's what you want." She continued while Artie stared at her in disbelief. "I was tired of the needles; they were leaving too many visible marks on my arms."

"So…" Artie trailed off, glancing at both sides of the hallways to make sure no one was coming or listening to his conversation. "Does this mean you got nothing?"

Quinn raised an eyebrow and step aside, gesturing Artie to come inside her room. "Come on in, I have some powder."

"Coke?" Artie as in disbelief as he slowly walked in. "Since when do you do coke?"

"Since a few weeks ago," Quinn replied, sitting down on one of the couches. She reached for her purse on the table in front of her. "Like I said, I was tired of the needles. Please sit."

Artie did what he was told and smiled at the singer.

It was an interesting arrangement to say the least. Quinn and Artie didn't actually like each other. They were cordial towards each other, never had a problem, but would never refer to each other as friends. They only interacted during their recreational drug session and the only reason why this even happen was because their band members were not active drug users, at least not as active as Quinn and Artie.

"I thought you were going to stay clean for the tour?"

Quinn glanced up at Artie before searching through her purse. "I tried. I was doing quite well for five days before the withdrawal started becoming unbearable." She shrugged. "I needed a fix."

Quinn knew she had promised Sue that would stay clean for the rest of the year, but she couldn't help it. It was addicting and she could afford the pure cocaine, instead of the crack cocaine that didn't nearly have the amount of potency as the real thing.

The drugs were stress relievers more than anything. Quinn had a stressful and demanding career, always being in the spotlight, always putting on a persona that drove the media wild. If Sue wanted Quinn to be America's sweetheart that Quinn had to have her fix now and then.

Quinn took a small plastic bag out of her purse and placed it on the table. She looked up at Artie who was staring at her in shock, whether it was because he couldn't believe she had so much or had the nerve to bring it along with her to tour wasn't known.

"Do you have some straws?"

Artie shook his head and sat down across from Quinn. "No, sorry. I didn't plan on getting high during tour." He glanced at the bag. "Well, at least not high on _that_."

"You brought weed with you?"

"Only some…. Damn, Quinn where do you get that stuff from? This has to be at least one hundred dollars' worth of coke."

Quinn shrugged, not fazed by Artie's astonishment. She dug in her purse and pulled out a sheet of paper. She neatly folded it and broke the page into small pieces. "I have my sources," she said, handing Artie a few pieces. "So are you going to try this stuff with me or not? I prefer to do it with others."

"Sure, why not? Can't turn down free stuff."

They didn't say anything else as Quinn opened the bag and poured some of the drug on the table. She then took her ID out of her wallet and began to separate the drug into eight neat lines. Once she was done, she rolled a piece into a straw and sniffed up a line in one swoop.

"Ever tried smoking this stuff?" Artie asked before copying Quinn's actions. He blinked and sniffed a few times when he was finished. This was the real deal, not the cheap crack.

"I have," Quinn said, rubbing her nose. "But I prefer this method. I don't want to bring a bong with me everywhere I go. Too much of a hassle."

Artie nodded, understanding where the singer he was coming from. After a couple of deep breaths, he brought the makeshift straw to his nose and inhaled another line.

"Are you ready for tonight's show? I heard the audience is going to be three thousand strong. I don't know how they plan to fit that many people in a grand ballroom."

"Of course I'm ready," Quinn snapped as if she was offended that Artie would dare to ask her such a question. "The crowd never scares me."

"Mercedes!"

Mercedes stopped as soon as she heard Sam called out her name from down the hall. She thought about ignoring Sam and resuming her walk. They weren't in McKinley anymore. They were in a public place. They shouldn't even be seen near each other.

But she couldn't bring herself to do it.

After cursing to herself, she turned around and watched as Sam ran up to her. It was like déjà vu all over again, Mercedes thought as she remembered the first time Sam had invited her for lunch. It happened the same exact way, except instead of heading towards the cafeteria, she was going to her hotel room.

"Hello Sam," she quietly said.

"Hey, how's it going?"

"I was just heading towards my room." She pointed down the ball and said in a teasing voice, "And it was going pretty well too until you show up."

Sam chuckled. "Well, I'm sorry for messing up your plans."

Mercedes shrugged. "It's no big deal. I'm not in a rush. So... what's up?"

Sam hesitated for a moment. "Have lunch with me. I already asked Rory to get us some food," Sam continued before Mercedes could protest. "We're just going to eat, that's all. And it will be the last time I'll ask anything from me. You won't have to worry about me bothering after lunch, well brunch."

"_Sam_..."

"I know what you're going to say but hear me out. I got two sandwiches the Rory was nice enough to get me at the dinner and I can't eat the both even if I wanted to. And I don't believe in unnecessarily wasting food so I obviously need to share them with some and who better to share my food with than you."

Mercedes bit her bottom lip. God, she should say no. She should tell Sam that she wasn't that hungry and she should focus on preparing for tonight's show. And that their managers would definitely not approve of this. Of course she couldn't bring herself to say that.

"You can't be..."

She sighed and shrugged. There wasn't any point. "I don't see why not. But you need to find a place to eat. I don't think siting in the hotel restaurant is a good idea."

Sam grinned. "Don't worry about that. I already found a perfect place."

"This is a new low, even for us." Mercedes said fifteen minutes later when she followed Sam inside the room, no a closet. She knew there weren't many places they could go, but a closet? She looked around the closet and questioned whether this was a good idea or not. Unfortunately her curiosity overruled her rationality. "Really Sam? This is a supply closet."

"An abandoned and oversized supply closet," Sam pointed out, dragging out two chairs from the back of the closet and a crate that would be used as a little table. "Hey, it's better than nothing."

"What if someone catches us?"

"We'll just have to pray very hard that doesn't happen," he grinned at Mercedes incredulous expression. "Oh, Mercy, don't worry about it. I highly doubt that anyone will look for us in here. We just have to be very quiet."

"If we get caught, I'm going to kill you."

"You have my permission to end my life if we do," Sam said, sitting down and patting the seat across from him. "Now sit. I got us some sandwiches."

"Of course you did," Mercedes laughed, "I swear you like to feed me on purpose and because of this, I'm not going to hear the end of it from Shannon."

"You know you can always say no."

"Shut up."

Sam grinned as Mercedes slowly sat down, still trying to glare at him. It wasn't working; it looked like she wanted to burst into laughter.

Sam placed the brown bag on the crate and pulled out two sandwiches. He gave one to Mercedes. "This is for you. Roast beef, cheddar, lettuce and tomato and honey mustard. I'm sorry, but according to Rory, the deli didn't have red onions."

Mercedes looked down at the sandwich and back at Sam. "Sam, you didn't have to…"

"Mercy, please."

"Thank you, Sam," Mercedes genuinely said, unwrapping the foil around the sandwich. "All I had today was a muffin that Holly was nice enough to lend me while we waited for our rooms to get prepared."

"No problem." He reached into the bag. "Do you need a napkin?"

"Yes, please." Mercedes took a bite of her sandwich before asking, "Do you know what cities we're going to after Boston?"

"I believe later this week we're going to be in Rochester then Buffalo- speaking of Buffalo, remind me when we get to there to take you to the Niagara Falls," Sam said. "It's not in Buffalo but it's close by."

"We'll have time for that?"

"I remember Dave saying something about staying Western New York for the weekend."

"Oh, I see." Mercedes took another bite of her meal. "Have you ever been to the falls?"

"No, but Artie has. He says it's amazing. A part it of belongs to the US and a part belongs to Canada."

Mercedes nodded. "I've been to Canada- Toronto. It's pretty nice."

"I've only been to Montreal but only for a day. We had a show there."

"Hey, how much time do we have?" Mercedes asked, remembering that Emma wanted everyone on the tour to meet in one of the board rooms for a little meeting about tonight's show at one.

Sam glanced at his watch. "About twenty minutes."

"Hm, that doesn't give us much time. Does it?" Mercedes wiped her mouth with a napkin. "Are you excited for tonight?"

Sam shrugged. "I guess- ask me again an hour from now." He took out a can of cola and two plastic cups. "Do you want some?"

"Yes please."

"Are you?"

Mercedes took a sip of her drink and raised an eyebrow. "Am I..?"

"Are you excited for tonight?"

Mercedes thought for a few seconds. "Yeah, you can say so. I'm more nervous than anything. I mean, I know the audience is a heck of a lot smaller than the one in Radio City Music Hall, but I'm still worried about messing up."

"I know what you mean," He poured Mercedes more soda. "It gets easier. I'm sure by the time this tour is over, your stage fright will more or less disappear."

"I'll take your word on it." She looked up and smirked. "Will you be lurking in the audience again?"

Sam laughed. "No, not this time. I don't think Emma or Dave will appreciate that, but have no fear Mercy, I'll enjoy your performance from backstage."

"That's too bad," Mercedes said in mock disappointment. "I think I enjoy watch your facial expressions from the stage. I have to say, they're quite entertaining. Made me forget that I was singing in front of over a thousand people."

"Oh come on, were they really that bad?"

Mercedes smiled. "No, but they were distracting enough for me to forget about my stage fright."

"Maybe I should be in the audience more often, so you can get over your fright."

"Yeah, maybe you should…" Mercedes responded quietly. She looked up at Sam and gave him a bashful smile.

She didn't want to think about the look Sam have her. She silently continued eating her sandwich. They both did until they finished their meals.

"One day I'm going to take you out to a nice restaurant," Sam announced out of the blue as he put all of the trash into the bag. He thought about just throwing it in the garbage can near the door, but then remembered that he or Mercedes was supposed to be in this room, well, closet, in the first place. "I think I'm tired of sharing meals with you in cafeterias and supply closets."

"And where we're going to go?"

"I don't know. I'll think of something."


	11. Chapter 11

**CHAPTER TEN**

Despite some minor setbacks, the McKinley tour had started off pretty well. The first show last night in the hotel's grand ballroom was successful, much to the surprise of Emma and the managers. The crowd had seemed satisfied, especially with the Limettes and New Directions, and the scene back stage had been relatively uneventful. They couldn't say the same thing for tonight's show. It was at bigger venue, and bigger venues often meant bigger problems. Over one thousand people would be present in the amphitheater and to top it off, it was getting filmed.

It was less than thirty minutes before the second show in Boston started. Everyone was on edge. The outfits for the acts arrived late from the hotel due to traffic, and to make things worse, Emma was back stage. This was the first time in a long time that Emma supervised her employees back stage. She normally didn't show up to many shows, only the major ones and that was only if Billy insisted that she attended them. Emma didn't intend to order people around, she was only observing, but everyone was making an extra effort to make sure everything went according to plan.

Next to back stage, where the dressing rooms were, people and musicians rushed to get ready. Kurt was running up and down the main hallway, making sure everyone had the right clothes and accessories. The makeup team was trying to do make up for three female acts at the same time- it wasn't working out as efficiently as they wanted. Sue was also looming around the hallways just to make sure that her Cheerios looked on point. She was proud to say that her girls were the first group to get ready. She had a triumphant smirk on her face as she walked down the hall, just to have her jolly expression drop at the sight of competition.

She narrowed her eyes and approached Mercedes, who was leaving her dressing room. "Well, well, well, look what we have here…"

Mercedes rolled her eyes and faced Sue. "And good evening to you, Sue."

Sue stopped and glanced at Mercedes' feet. "I am stunned," she commented, sounding genuinely surprised. "Tell me: how do those heels not break underneath all that weight?"

Mercedes crossed her arms and glared at the manager. "I'm just about sick and tired of the fat jokes; they're starting to get old."

"Well unless you do something about that little problem, the jokes will never stop," Sue let out a dramatic sigh. "Why Billy would make a three-hundred pounder the front runner of a group is beyond me."

"I'm not three-hundred pounds..." Mercedes trailed off as Sue, who was not paying her any mind, just walked away, heading towards the Cheerios. Mercedes gave Sue a sharp look before walking back into her dressing room. She lifted her head up high and walked to the back stage area. She couldn't let Sue's comments get to her. No, she was going to go on stage soon and she had to be fabulous. Just like Kurt said, she had to be a diva.

When Mercedes reached backstage, she saw Tina and Santana talking to Brittany and Rachel while Quinn talked to Kitty about some fashion show in New York City. She smiled to herself when she caught sight of Sam and Rory standing near the stage, pulling back to the curtains to look out in the audience and talking about something she couldn't catch. Holly was of course getting another cup of coffee and chatting with Emma who had her own cup of hot drink. Cooter was nowhere to be seen. Dave was roaming around the area, looking a bit stressed.

"Mr. Karofsky," one of the female crew members asked as soon as she approached him. She handed him a napkin and a pen. "Can you please give me an autograph? I absolutely love the way you run one of the most successful groups in the music industry."

Dave shrugged and honored the woman's request. It was rare for people to ask for manager's autographs. They normally wanted to the singers, but who was Dave to decline something like this? He gave him a rare but forced smile as he handed her the autograph. "Here it is," he said.

The woman beamed at Dave. "Thank you so much. I don't think you know how much this means to me."

"No problem. By the way, I didn't catch your name…"

"This is so pathetic," Santana grumbled with disgust after she waved goodbye to Brittany and Rachel. She crossed her arms and shook her head at the sad sight of Dave "flirting" with one of the crew members in front of her.

Tina, standing next to Santana while trying to fix her wig that decided not to cooperate with her, asked, "What is?"

"This!" Santana nearly shouted but it was loud enough for some people to turn and give her a look. She gestured the manager. "I don't understand why he's trying so hard. Dave knows damn well he prefers dicks over boobs. It's so blatantly obvious. If I wasn't so against him conspiring with Sue to keep Brit and Trouty together, I would have walked up to him and make him see the light."

"W-hat? What are you-?" Tina glanced between Dave and the woman he was talking to. "How would _you_ know?"

Santana shrugged. "Oh please, I'm a semi-closeted lesbian and a judgmental bitch, which means one thing. I can spot the gays from miles away." She sighed when Tina gave her a blank look. "I totally saw him checking out Kurt's ass the other day while licking his lips, mind you. Pretty sure no self-respecting heterosexual man would do something like that." She leaned in. "Do you think Mr. Fashion King knows about this?"

Tina shrugged and watched Kurt rush into backstage, looking like he was about to have a breakdown. "I honestly don't know…"

Kurt, unaware that Santana and Tina were talking about him although he was about a few feet away, dramatically threw his hands up and called forth the fashion gods to save him from this hell. The last time he was this busy before the show, he had to find an express dry cleaning service in the middle of London to clean the Cheerios and the Warblers' clothes because an employee at the venue had decided to dispose his stomach contents on top of the neatly folded _clean_ clothes.

At the other side of backstage, the Warblers were practicing their routine while Cooter watched them like a hawk. From time to time, Blaine would glance at Kurt who was running around like a chicken without a head, trying to make sure that everyone looked the way he and she were supposed to. He would instantly stop when Cooter caught his gaze. It wasn't his fault, he would convince himself, it was all Kurt's. The stylist was downright distracting.

Kurt noticed Blaine's stares. The singer wasn't very conspicuous about his affections for anyone, but the stylist had decided a long time ago that he was no longer giving him any time of the day. Not after Blaine had thought it was a good idea to fool around with Sebastian in the back seat of his Cadillac (and then had the nerve to blame his loneliness and their supposedly long distance relationship for his infidelity.)

He was about to head to the bathroom to wipe his face with some ice cold water- the venue was being very generous with the heating system, when he was confronted by Marley, holding up the side of her dress.

Kurt raised an eyebrow. People should not be holding up dresses like that. "Hi, Marley… is there a problem?"

Marley shook and put on her best kicked- puppy look. She turned to the side to show Kurt the relatively long rip along the side of her dress. "I don't know what happened. I was walking out of my dressing room and it ripped."

And this was why Kurt also brought a mini-sowing kit with him at all times. Kurt glanced at the rip, let out a deep breath and made a mental note to call the dress' tailor and demand an explanation. He took the kit out of his pocket, dropped down his knees and instantly went into damage control mode.

Kurt felt like he was in the back stage of a fashion show, except it wasn't a fashion which made it all worse. He was standing next to the table of refreshments and pots of coffee for the employees as he tried to fix the side of Marley's dress that had decided to rip because why not?

"I'm so sorry about this," Marley said feeling bad as she tried to stay as still as possible. "I think- no, I know I have gained some weight. Kitty said she noticed the gain earlier. I think I need to go back to my strict diet so I can lose more weight."

"Marley Sue, it's no big deal. Accidents happen and for the last time, you don't have to lose weight," Kurt said for the umpteenth time tonight while he continued to sow the disconnected seams. This was a normal occurrence. Marley would run to him before each fitting complaining about how she miraculously gained five pounds on the couple of days (now where these pounds were, Kurt never knew) and how she needed to go on another diet. He was sure that Kitty Wilde had something to do with this. "If you lose any more weight, little missy, you may disappear."

"But that's not what Kitty said…"

Kurt groaned. It looked like his suspicions were correct after all. "Don't listen to Kitty. She has a liking for tearing down people's self-esteem."

"But what if she's right?"

"What if she's wrong?" Kurt sighed. He stopped sowing to wipe the sweat off his forehead with the back of his forearm. There should be no reason why it was _this_ hot. He just happened to glance to his side and groaned when found Blaine _still_ staring at him. "Did your doctor ever tell you that you need to lose weight?" Marley shook her head. "Then _you don't have to lose any weight_."

While Kurt tried to avoid Blaine and his gaze at all costs while trying to fix Marley's dress, two of the Cheerios members walked into the back stage area, having a hushed conversation about all of the drama that was going on in McKinley Records.

"I cannot believe that Quinn told Sue that Finn had proposed to you and you had turned him down," Brittany said, "I mean, why would she do such a thing?"

"It doesn't matter," Rachel replied, before saying a quick hello to Kurt who was literally running around, trying to make sure that all three of his assistants were getting their tasks down. "I'm sick and tired of dealing with this mess. I have to do something about it before I drive myself insane."

"What are you going to do about Finn?"

"I don't know. I'm seriously considering just ending things for good with him. I can't deal with this anymore."

At the corner of her eye, she saw Finn Hudson walking past by, talking to one of the stage crew members. She nudged Rachel on her arm. She pointed at the opposite direction and said, "Well, here's your chance- there he is." She gave Rachel a pointed look. "I think you should talk to him."

Rachel sighed. Brittany was right. She should speak to him about their relationship and how he was insulting her intelligence by thinking she would marry him while he had Quinn on the side. "You're right," she said, "I should. I'm going to be right back. I shouldn't be long but if Sue asks about my whereabouts, tell her I'm in the bathroom or something."

Brittany smiled and patted her band mate on the back. "Now that's the spirit, and don't worry. Sue won't hear a word about this."

"Thanks, Brittany."

Rachel walked up to Finn who just finished chatting with one of the female staff members, and before the lead singer could think of what to say to his sort of girlfriend, she said in a stern voice," Finn Hudson, we need to talk."

Finn froze at those dreaded words. Those words were never good. "About what?"

"About the status of our relationship, or should I say, former relationship."

"Former relationship…?" Finn said, trying to grasp the meaning of Rachel's words. He blinked. "What does that mean?"

"That means that I, Rachel Barbra Bernstein, am breaking up with you, Finn Hudson, for good."

"What?"

"Finn, it's over."

"But- why?" Finn took a step forward and took Rachel's arm in his hand. "Rachel, come on, you know I love you. You can't just leave me like this."

"For one, it's quite obvious that you don't love me as much as your precious reputation as Quinn's future husband," Rachel retorted, snatching her arm away from Finn's grasp. "I'm not going to sit around and wait for you to come to your senses. I only have one life to live, and I'm not going to waste my time being only second to Quinn."

"Rachel-"

Rachel raised a hand up, cutting off Finn, "There is nothing else you can say or do that will make me change my mind. I'm tired of the broken promises and games. I'm not a toy that you can simply play with whenever you like."

"But I proposed to you. I asked you to be my wife three times. Doesn't that prove my devotion to you?"

"_Devotion_?" Rachel scoffed at the absurdity of Finn's so-called devotion. "And what self-respecting woman would agree to marry a man who wouldn't give up being with another woman?"

"You know it's not like that…"

"I really don't care what it's like at this moment," Rachel said crossing her arms. "We're done, and if you don't mind, I have to prepare for tonight's performance. Unlike you, I actually take pre-show preparations seriously."

"And what is that supposed to mean?"

"Don't think I can't smell the beer in your breath," Rachel replied, walking away, leaving Finn stunned. "Everyone knows that you don't drink before you're supposed to put on a show."

Very few people noticed the lead singer of New Directions slowly walking from back stage to the hallways with his fists clenched and his head hung low. His band members were not one of them.

* * *

"Can't sneak out into the audience this time," Rory joked, pulling the curtain back to have a peek at the audience. He turned around and waved at Rachel who seemed to look like she needed a hug. He frowned. He was sure it had something to do with Quinn and/or Finn. It always did. "This isn't Radio City. This place is full of rabid fans. They'll pounce on you the moment you walk into the seating area."

"Yeah, I know," Sam said as he slung his guitar over his shoulder. "I overheard Dave talking to Kurt about adding more security. People are getting really rowdy. Did you hear about Blaine and Sebastian almost getting mauled by some people who wanted an autograph?"

"Man, this is LA all over again."

"I know," Sam agreed, waving at some of the Warblers who were walking by out of courtesy. "I was forced to engage in some public display of affection earlier with Brittany. It drove the crowd wild."

"Yeah, I couldn't believe the size of that crowd this morning and I thought…"

Sam stopped listening to Rory and stared in awe when Mercedes walked into the backstage area. His throat went dry, watching Mercedes swing her hips even more when she noticed his eyes on her. Sam gulped. That woman was going to be the death of him, he just knew it. But he would die a happy man if he could-

"_Sam_," Rory said in loud voice, snapping his fingers in front of Sam's face. "Are you listening to me?"

"Huh?" Sam took another look at Mercedes. He gulped again when the object of his desires turned around and gave him a wide grin. "Yeah…" he said, trying not to sound like he was distracted. "Yeah, I was listening to you."

Rory sighed. He knew Sam was lying. He looked in the direction that his friend was staring at. _Oh_, he thought, no wonder Sam looked dazed, though he couldn't blame him. Mercedes did look real nice in that dress. "Man," he said in a teasing voice, "You're whipped."

"Whipped?" Sam blinked. "What are you talking about?"

Rory laughed and titled his head towards Mercedes' direction. "Just make sure that Dave doesn't catch you making lovey dovey eyes at Mercedes. I don't think he'll be too happy."

"Who are talking about?" And that it dawned on him. He blushed. "Right…"

"Hey, I won't say anything about your staring," Rory said, grinning. He found this entire situation hilarious and he was glad that he had nothing to do with Sam and his growing love triangle. "Or about your hushed conversation on the bus with your lady friend."

"You heard that?" Sam asked horrified, but then again, of course Rory had heard it. At the time, he was sitting across the aisle, going in and out of sleep.

"Just thank your lucky stars that you were sitting across from me and not Finn or worse, Dave."

Artie barged into back stage and rushed towards Sam and Rory, bumping into some people along the way and then causing his band mates to jump out of surprise. After a quick apology he asked, "Hey, did you guys know where Finn is? I've been looking for him for the past twenty minutes. We need to get ready soon."

"You can't find him?"

"No, I thought he was in here," Artie glanced around hoping to find Finn. He began to panic when he didn't see him. "Where the hell did he go?"

"Man, I don't know…"

Rory glanced at Sam, "Does this mean-"

"It looks like we have no choice." Sam sighed and motioned Rory to go with him. "Artie, meet us in our dressing room. We'll go get him," he announced before leaving with Rory following close behind.

It only took Rory and Sam a few minutes to find Finn. He was slumped against the wall, right next to the Cheerios' dressing room, finishing off a can of beer before half-hazardly throwing it in the garbage can across from him. It took him a moment to realize that his two band mates were standing not far from him, staring at him in disbelief. Finn sighed and sloppily waved at them before slumping even further down the wall.

Rory was the first one to reach Finn. "Finn, what the hell is going on?"

"I think he's drunk," Sam replied as soon as he walked up to the lead singer. "This isn't good. No, this isn't good at all. Of all times to happen…"

Rory glanced at the couple of cans that didn't make it to the garbage can. "How many beers did you have?"

"I had-" Finn paused to count with his fingers. "Four. Yep, I had four beers." He grinned in triumph and rubbed his temples. He could feel a headache forming. "I drank all of it in under ten minutes. A new world record…"

Sam and Rory shook their hands and thought it was time to get their lead singer to his feet.

"I'm not feeling well."

"I wouldn't feel well too if I had downed four beers in less than ten minutes," Sam snapped, helping Finn rise to his feet. He prayed to God, Jesus and every angel he could think of, that Finn would be able to look relatively sober on stage. "What the hell were you thinking?"

"Rachel dumped me."

Sam and Rory both sighed.

Sam stared at Finn, wondering why he was always stuck in these types of situation and shook his head. "So you think drinking yourself to death right before the show starts is going to make things better?" He sighed again when Finn finally stood up. "You gotta think, man."

Finn only mumbled inaudible words in response.

Sam and Rory glanced at each other as if they couldn't believe this was happening _twenty something minutes_ before the show started.

"I got you." Rory supported Finn's right side and cursed the fact that the man wasn't he lightest person in the world. "Should we bring him back to the dressing room?" he asked Sam.

Sam thought for a moment. It looked like they had no choice. The last thing he- New Directions needed was to run into Dave and allow him to see Finn in this state. "Yeah."

"We found our lost lead singer," Rory announced as soon as he kicked the door open and helped Sam drag Finn into the dressing room.

Artie watched the scene in shock. Sure, he had seen Finn in a less than favorable state, but not like this. No, this was completely new and terrifying at the same time. "Where was he?"

"Standing near the Cheerios' dressing room, begging to see Rachel," Sam replied, leading Finn into a small. He ordered Rory to get him a glass of water. "You should've been there. It was definitely a sight to see."

"And the best part," Rory added, "Rachel wasn't even in there. She and the Cheerios had already left with Sue to practice their part of the show."

"Is he drunk?" Artie asked, watching Finn slumped into his seat and rub his temples. The leads singer mumbled a thanks when Rory handed him a glass of water. "Please, tell me he isn't drunk."

"No," Rory answered. "He's only tipsy. He should be fine in no time, but Dave's right. He's not in good enough shape to sing all of the songs."

"What's Finn gonna do the entire time?" Artie asked as he followed Sam into the backstage area. He made sure that he gave the lead singer for the night some space because he didn't look too happy. "He doesn't know how to play an instrument."

"No kidding…"

"We can give him a guitar. I can ask the guitarist from McKinley's band to lend me his when it's our turn to go out there. Finn's not going to play it, but he can make believe he is." Rory suggested. "It's not like people in the audience is going to know the difference."

* * *

Back in the back stage area, everyone was preparing for the show that would start in less than twenty minutes. Most of the acts were ready. Marley's dress was finally fixed. Dave was searching for his group, just to find out from the same women he was speaking too earlier that Finn was seen slumping against a wall, surrounded by beer cans. It didn't take him long to find New Directions, trying to nurse Finn back to sobriety. After Rory calmly explained to Dave what was going on, Dave instructed the sober three members of his group to wait outside of the door for him.

Dave walked into the hallway a few minutes later and from the look on his face, it didn't look good for Finn. "We have a slight problem," he announced as soon as he was able convinced most of New Directions to walk to the end of the hall out of sight of many people. He didn't need the news to spread without his permission. "It doesn't look good. Finn won't be able to sing lead tonight."

All three men could only stare at their manager.

"Oh, you have to got to be-" Artie almost threw his bass down on the floor. "What do you mean Finn can't sing lead? He's the leader singer. Lead singers sing leads."

Rory continued stared at his manager in disbelief.

Dave crossed his arms, face resembling something close to a pout. He wasn't happy about this either. Finn had one job to do, and he couldn't do it. "Finn's having some difficulties with his voice right now. For some reason that I don't give a damn at this moment, his voice isn't up to par. Those people out there didn't pay all of this money just to hear some half-ass singing. Finn will do some of the leads, Sam's doing the rest."

Sam rubbed his forehead out of frustration. This wasn't the first time this had happened. "Well, this is just terrific."

"Look, I'm just as pissed off as you guys," Dave said. "But I rather have Sam sing lead than a drunk Finn. It's only for this night."

* * *

"I don't understand," Kitty said walking past the Limettes without acknowledging them. "Why do they have to be first? Like hell am I going to allow those losers to open the show."

"But they opened our show at Radio City…" Marley reasoned before giving the Limettes a small wave. "They're going to open for all of the shows."

"What is up with her?" Mercedes asked, giving Kitty a dirty look.

"Kitty's just mad that we sound better than she ever will," Santana said, finding the entire thing hilarious. "I'm telling you, it's a hate move."

"I'm not going to pay her any mind," Tina said, looking out for Holly. "We can laugh it off when the crowd applauds for us louder than her."

"I agree."

"Yeah, okay."

"What I don't understand," Tina said. "Is why we had to record another song last week if we're only going to be singing three for the tour?"

"I don't know. You have to ask Holly."

"Maybe Holly's saving the best for last. Nowhere to Run has to be my favorite song we've recorded. I know it's going to be a hit," Santana said to her band mates as they walked around back stage. She walked past Quinn, bumping into her. "Excuse me," she said and continued walking, not paying attention to the glare Quinn gave her.

"Watch where you're going," Quinn snapped angrily.

Santana stopped and turned around. "I said excuse me. It's not my problem that you don't know how to move."

Brittany and Tina exchanged wary glances.

Quinn crossed her arms and deeply frowned. "Look, I don't know how you think you are- you don't belong here. None of you do," Quinn said, glaring at Santana. "Billy should've left you back in Ohio with all the other wannabe stars. You can't compete with us."

Brittany wanted to bang her head on something. She didn't know what was up with Santana and Quinn, but it seemed that every time there were near each other, they started fighting. She had tried to tell the two women (separately) that fighting was not the answer, but they ignored him.

"Quinn, was that necessary?" Brittany chided, yanking her band mate away from Santana. She gave Santana a sympathetic look.

"I'm about sick and tired of you, Quinn," Santana said in a threatening tone. "I don't know who you think I am, but I'm from Lima Heights Adjacent- I specialize in kicking bitches' asses and I won't hesitate to do the same to you."

"Is that a threat?"

Tina froze. Where was Mercedes when she needed her? Mercedes knew how to deal with an angry Santana. She looked around and sighed in relief when she saw Mercedes rushing towards them.

"You bet it is."

Tina wisely chose to stay out of this. It looked like Santana was seeing red, and Tina didn't want to make the situation any worse than it already was. Mercedes however, wasn't going to let everything play out. She took a step towards Santana.

"Santana, you're not doing this now," Mercedes warned, walking to the scene before her, not believing that Quinn and Santana was trying to turn backstage into a boxing ring fifteen minutes before the show start. "It's not even worth it."

Santana ignored Mercedes and clenched her fists. She was tired of Quinn insulting. She almost humorlessly laughed at Quinn who was doing the same thing. "What are gonna do with those fists?"

"Punch your face in with them," Quinn snapped.

"_Santana_!"

She marched up right between her girlfriend and her band member and held her hands up as if blocking the two women from taking another step. "Look, I know you two want to yell at each other for the rest of the night, but this has to stop. We're about to get on stage, for heaven's sake. Save the fighting for later."

Santana couldn't deny Brittany. She rolled her eyes and grumbled. She shared a glare with Quinn as the two women began to retreat from each other. After sighing in relief, Brittany rushed to Quinn and dragged her away. Mercedes did the same.

"What is your problem?" Santana grumbled, snatching her arm away from Mercedes' grasp.

Mercedes gently pushed Santana aside. "We aren't here to start fighting with other groups. We are here to put on a show. Understand?"

Santana huffed and rolled her eyes. "Fine. But I'm warning you: If that Quinn thinks she can talk to me any old way than she has another thing coming. I don't care if she's a part of the Cheerios. I will knock her into last century."

Mercedes shook her head and sighed.

"I think snatching her weave off will be less violent," Tina quickly added than blushed out of embarrassment when she realized what she had just said. "Not that I'm advocating doing such a thing…"

"I may consider that option. It's less bloody, less controversial and if I do in private, there will be no witnesses to prove that I've laid a hand on her precious fake her. And I won't have to go to jail for assault. Yay."

Mercedes blinked and glanced back at Quinn and Brittany. She overheard Quinn complaining to Brittany about her head being itchy. "She's wearing a wig? How can you tell? I thought those kind of people didn't need to?"

Tina snorted in way that would make Santana proud. "Please, I can tell all the way from here. According to Brittany, Sue's not too happy about Quinn's extreme haircut."

"But she only cut her hair to her shoulders?"

Santana rolled her eyes.

Tina shrugged. "Well, apparently that's not ladylike enough for Sue." She was about to continued but instantly closed her mouth when she saw a very upset Emma stomped towards Dave. The Limettes glanced at each other and moved closer to see what Emma would yell at Dave about.

* * *

"What is the meaning of this?" Emma asked, tapping her foot. "Why is Evans singing lead and Hudson is not? From my understanding, Finn Hudson does most of the vocals."

"He does," Dave replied slowly, "But he's not in the condition to do that tonight. Sam will be fine. It's not like he's never done this before."

"And that is exactly the issue," Emma snapped, wondering how Dave could be so nonchalant about this. "This is the fifth time this has happened in the past few weeks. If I didn't know any better I would think that Sam and Finn were sharing lead."

And this was exactly why he didn't want Emma to come on the tour. Dave liked to think himself as the king of damage control, but he couldn't be productive when his supervisor was breathing down his neck.

"It won't happen again."

Emma gave him an unconvinced look. "That's what you told me last time. You tell me that every time." She sighed. "What happened to Hudson now?"

"He had a breakdown," Dave replied. Well, he wasn't really lying. He did have a breakdown and that was why he had gone on an alcohol binge. He wasn't going to mention the alcohol part. As far as Emma was concerned, Finn had been sober for past three months."

_"Show's starting in three minutes!"_

Emma gave Dave one last glare before she walked away, reminding her employees that the show in any minute. Dave went ahead and gathered his group, but not before praying that tonight's show was not going to turn into a disaster. He could already tell from Emma's expression that he was in hot water.

"Okay," Holly said to the Limettes who lined up next to the stage. "The show's about to start. Remember we're doing three songs, Then He Kissed Me, Heat Wave and He's So Fine. Make the crowd love you, alright?"

"Hell yeah," Santana responded smirking. "We'll be fine."

"I love confidence," Holly said. "Good luck out there."

"Thank you."

"Good luck, you guys," Brittany said, walking past the Limettes and ignoring Sue's sharp look. She was only wishing them good luck, it wasn't big deal. Well, at least it wasn't a big deal to normal people. Sue Sylvester was certainly not normal.

_"One minute!"_

The show announcer walked on stage and as soon as the curtains drew back and he did his introductions, he called out the Limettes.

"Sing your hearts out," Holly said, clapping with the audience.

The Limettes turned around and smiled.

* * *

Emma and Holly stood across from each other, not saying a word as they watched the Limettes perform. Holly had to admit, they were more polish this time then they were two weeks ago. Mike would be so proud to know that the Limettes actually remembered all of their steps (he was supposed to be on the tour, but his father recently had a heart attack so he had to stay behind.)

"I like this version of Then he Kissed Me," Emma commented after a few minutes of silence. "I'm not surprised this single has done so well, and it appears that the crowd feels the same way."

"To be honest, I like their other too songs. They're more soulful; they complement their voices. This song not so much."

Emma nodded and glanced at the crowd who seemed to be enjoying the performance. "Well, this song was originally for the Cheerios… at least they look and sound good. Pretty impressive considering how long they have been at McKinley."

"True."

"I find it extremely interesting that Will chose this song to be their first single."

"Heatwave was supposed to be their first single; well at least it was according to Unique. She said that she wrote Heatwave specifically for them, but Will didn't want it. He wanted them to have crossover appeal." She gave Emma a look. "You know how that is."

"Hm," Emma took a sip of her tea that was getting cold. She knew she shouldn't have gotten the drink from the concession stands instead of the coffee shop a few blocks away. "Speaking of Unique, is she officially a she or is still a he?"

Holly shrugged. "Emma, I don't even know. I call Unique he or she based on the outfits. She was wearing a dress the last time I saw her- so, as far as I'm concerned, Unique is a she."

Emma shook her head and glanced at the crowd again. She smiled at the thought of the crowd going crazy as soon as the band began playing the beats to Heatwave. The Limettes seemed to be excited too. "It whole thing is confusing. I hope one day Unique figures out soon."

"I don't blame you. Switching pronouns can be a bit tiresome." Holly moved aside when she noticed Rachel walking up to her. "Hello, Rachel how are you?"

"Hello, Ms. Berry," Emma said, smiling. She excused herself and walked away when she noticed a big crowd forming around the side of the stage, all eager to watch the performance.

"Couldn't feel better." Rachel beamed. "Couldn't feel better. I like this song a like. Sue will absolutely kill me if she finds out, but I do. It's catchy."

"I'm glad you like it."

Rachel nodded again and continued to watch the show. It wasn't long before the Limettes switched to their last song, "He's so Fine." She swayed to the beat of the slower song. Rachel glanced at Sam, who was across from her, watching Mercedes as if she was the only person in the whole theater and Mercedes who would sneak in secret smiles at the guitar player. She brought her hand to her mouth and breathed out in disbelief. "_No way_."

"No way what?" Quinn asked, walking up to Rachel's side. She watched the Limettes finished their second with a slight frowned. As much as she didn't want to admit it, the girl group had talent.

"Nothing," Rachel quickly replied before scurrying away back to get cup of water. She didn't want to be the one to start rumors that might not be true. That was Brittany's job. "Nothing at all."

Holly gave Mercedes and Sam a suspicious look and shook her head. Why were young people so hard-headed? She would really want to know the answer because no matter how many times she told those two fools, they just ignored her.

They weren't even trying to hide it. Or if they were, they were doing a horrible job. Sam wouldn't keep the damn smile off his face and Mercedes wouldn't stop sneaking glances at him.

She shook her head. Holly decided that she needed to squash this nuisance once and for all, at least for the duration of the tour. She watched on as the Limettes finished their last song and bowed as the crowd erupted into a loud applause. She applauded with them; after all, they did do a terrific job.

"Mercedes," She called out as the Limettes walked off stage, "Can we have a word?" she waited patiently for the leader singer to come her way. She tried to hide her frustration but from the slight apprehensive look on Mercedes' face, it looked like she wasn't going a good job.

"You wanted to speak to me?"

"Yes." Holly sighed and pulled Mercedes to the side where no one could hear them. "Mercedes, I don't know what's going on between you and Evans, and frankly I'm too busy to care, but for the next two weeks you two cannot acknowledge each other's presence in public. Do you understand?"

Mercedes simply nodded. "Yes, Ms. Holliday."

"You can greet each other but only in a cordial fashion," Holly said. "Nothing more, nothing less. I don't want to hear from Sue or Dave about how you two are messing up their supposedly flawless publicity stunt. I don't even want to see you near each other."

Mercedes nodded again agreement. She couldn't get mad at the manager. She wasn't surprised by Holly's demands, and she could see why Holly was overly cautious.

"I don't want to sound mean or anything… but public image is everything. You don't want to mess that up so early in your career, do you?"

Mercedes looked down at her feet. "No… I completely understand."

"Okay, well that's all I have to say," Holly said, "On a better note, you three were wonderful out there. Emma said that if you keep this up in Rochester and Buffalo, you girls can add one more song."

Mercedes smiled slightly. "That's great news," and with that, she said her goodbye. As soon as she left Holly, she searched for Sam. She wanted to speak to him now, just to get it over with.

"Sam!" She called out when she saw him talking to Blaine several feet away. She watched Sam say something to his friend before jogging towards her with a wide grin.

"Did you call me?"

Mercedes playfully rolled her eyes. "You know I did." She paused, remembering why she wanted to see Sam at this very moment. "How are you?"

"Can't complain," he answered, reaching out for her hand and bringing it to his lips, giving it a small kiss. Mercedes didn't even protest. She was used to this. It was an odd habit Sam had developed in the past month. Almost every time he saw here, not in public, he would take her hand place a kiss on it.

Mercedes just watched him and couldn't help but wonder how his lips would feel on her- she shook her head, glanced to her side and thanked the Lord no one was near her. "Sam… hey, do you mind if we uh, talk for a little?"

Sam let go of Mercedes's hand, titled his head to the side then shrugged. "Yeah, sure."

"We can't do it here. Too many people."

"Fine by me. Lead the way."

Mercedes nodded and gestured Sam to follow her. She led him into a room without a door. It was a small room in the far back, out of view from the rest of the back stage. It looked like a place where no one went unless they had no choice. There wasn't much light. There was a lamp, but Mercedes didn't want to risk turning it on.

"I have to admit, this place is a little creepy."

"Don't worry, we won't be too long." Mercedes paused. "How much time do you have?"

"A good ten minutes. It would be longer due to um recent events, we have to meet up with Dave earlier. By the way, great show."

Mercedes nodded. "Okay, good. That leaves us more than enough time, and thanks."

They remained quiet for a bit.

"I have to say," Sam looked down at Mercedes and grinned. "I think this is my favorite dress."

"Oh come on…" Mercedes trailed off, trying not to giggle. This man and his compliments. "You can barely see me or the dress in here."

"I can see enough, and trust me, it looks great on you.''

"Why thank you."

"So…" Sam trailed off, digging his hands in his pockets. "What did you want to talk about?"

Mercedes fought the urged to slap her forehead. Damn it, she almost forgot about it. She pondered from a moment, trying to think of the best way to break the news. In the end, she decided to take the straightforward route. It wasn't like she had a lot of time to explain herself. She could the announcer calling out the Cheerios. "Sam, from this moment on to the end of the tour, we don't exist to each other. just think that we're practically strangers," Mercedes said.

Sam's response was a blank stare.

Mercedes frowned. This was _just_ what she needed. Was he going to say anything?

"Are you… serious?" Sam slowly asked. "Mercy, you can't honestly be agreeing to this."

"Sam, I'm not, and I wish we didn't have to do this, but that's how it has to be for the next two weeks. You have to understand, this isn't you're your band mates and Holly we're dealing with now. It's _everyone_. Do you really want shit to hit the fan while we're on tour?" She rubbed her head. "We can greet each other in public, but that's it. We say hello and goodbye, nothing more. And my God Sam, listen to me this time."

"This time?" Sam was taken aback. "I listened to you last time."

"Really? So what was Radio City Music Hall?"

"Okay, I slipped but Mercy, you have to understand. I couldn't help myself. I can't help myself. When I'm around you, all sense of rationality gets thrown of the window."

"Yeah, I've noticed," Mercedes mumbled.

"Okay, I'll do it."

Mercedes blinked at him several times. She didn't expect him to say that- at least this quickly. This was too easy. "Really?"

Sam shrugged. "I mean it's two weeks not two months and anyway, we don't have to worry about sneaking around in closets and scary dark rooms anymore."

Mercedes sighed. Would it last? She couldn't be too sure. She wanted to be optimistic at the prospect of being Sam-free until the tour was over but she knew from experience that she well they needed to put I more than one hundred percent effort of they were going to pull this off. Their last attempt to avoid each other didn't even last a week.

"I'm sorry."

Mercedes gave Sam a confused look. "For what?"

"For everything. If you want me to leave you alone, I'll leave you alone. I swear I will. Just say it and I'll do it."

_"_Look, Sam, listen to me. You didn't do anything wrong," Mercedes said, taking one step towards Sam. She definitely didn't expect Sam to say that. "_I want you._ I want you more than you can ever imagine. Sometimes I think about how it will feel to have your lips up against mine, your hands on my skin, _everywhere_. You're one of the sweetest and funniest people I have ever met, and any girl would be lucky to be by your side."

"Mercedes-"

"But you have to understand, this career means everything to me. Do you know how long it took me to get to this place? I have never thought in my wildest dreams that I'll be touring with some of the hottest groups in the country after only being at a record company for one month. I can't throw away like this amazing opportunity just like that. You know what's going to happen if everyone finds out about _whatever_ this is. It's going to turn into one big sandal and it's going to impact our careers for the worse. I can't afford to take the risk, and you know you can't afford to do so too. You have a family to provide for."

Sam stared at Mercedes, stunned beyond belief. "You want _me_?"

Mercedes sighed and bit her bottom lip. That would be the only thing he would pay attention to. She nodded as a response, not knowing what do say. She vaguely paid attention to Sam taking a few steps towards her. "Sam…" she breathed out.

He didn't say anything. He only cupped Mercedes' face with his hands, leaned down and kissed her.


	12. Chapter 12

**CHAPTER ELEVEN**

The show in Buffalo was a big hit, Emma thought as she watched the Warblers finished off the show with a wide smile on her face. Billy was certainly going to be happy when heard the news. He had initially been worried about the tour, but so far everything was going fine. The shows in Boston, Syracuse and Rochester were successful and tonight's show was a perfect way to earn the week. Now, she had to deal with next week when everyone head South, but Emma didn't want to worry about until Sunday night, when everyone had to take the bus to Baltimore.

"It was a good idea to have the Warblers close the show," Emma announced to Holly who was watching the show next to her.

"I agree." Holly glanced back at Mercedes who walked the other way when she noticed she was about to bump into Sam. She smiled to herself and said, "Everything is going according to plan."

"That's good." Emma nodded. "I want to award our singers for the amazing job they've been doing. There is a nice restaurant right next on the lake. I have reserved the entire second floor for us. The view of Lake Erie is nothing short of breathtaking. And you don't have to worry about people… denying the Limettes any service."

"I think it's a great idea, but I think we should change that to tomorrow afternoon."

"Why? What is wrong with tonight?"

"By the time we're done with the show, it's going to be late. It's going to be dark out and we want be able to see Lake Erie except for a few lights from the boats. Why don't we have it when it's light out?"

Emma pondered for a moment. "You do present a very good point. Oh, I know! There is nightclub right outside of downtown that doesn't close until three am. I think our singers would enjoy that after a long night."

"Oh, nightclubs. I simply love nightclubs."

Marley and Kitty listened in awe as Holly and Emma continued talking about tonight's plans. The two singers looked at each other and then at Emma and Holly again as they verified all of the plans. They gasped and hid out of the two women's sight as they walked out of the back stage area.

"This is such great news," Marley said smiling.

Kitty nodded in agreement. She was glad about going to a nightclub. She was tired of doing nothing after a show. After all, she was young and she was allowed to have some fun once in her life. "Yes it is, Marley. Yes it is. Oh my god, we have to prepare!"

"Prepare?" Marley slowly asked. "All I'm going to do is put on a dress…"

"Of course you are." Kitty shook her head with shame. "Don't worry about it. I'll deal with your wardrobe. I can't be seen with someone who has a fashion sense of a newborn."

Marley looked offended.

Kitty didn't pay her much mind. "I can't wait for later," she said clapping with glee, slightly scaring off Marley who wasn't used to seeing this side of her singing partner. "I'm going to wear the tightest leather dress the world has ever seen."

"Leather? Isn't that a bit too much?"

Kitty gave Marley, who she thought had absolutely no sense of style, a dirty look. She didn't take advice from a woman who hadn't even heard of Coco Chanel until she had met Kitty. "Honey, you can't do wrong with leather, especially when you have my body."

Marley didn't see any point arguing with Kitty.

* * *

"You three were terrific tonight."

The Limettes smiled at Brittany as she walked into their dressing room. The show was over and everyone was getting ready to get back to the hotel.

"You guys were great too," Tina complemented, giving Brittany a hug. "I'm sure Sue is happy with you three."

Brittany laughed. "I don't think Sue is ever going to be happy. I don't think she has a happy bone in her body."

"Speaking of Sue," Mercedes added, replacing her heels with more comfortable shoes. She loved Kurt's outrageous sense of style, but there were sometimes when she wished he would incorporate more reasonable shoes for performing. "Are you sure she won't be mad if she finds out you're here?"

Brittany didn't look too concerned. She shrugged and sat in a chair right next to the door. "Sue's too busy yelling at people to care where I am right now. Anyway, I'm here to tell you the greatest news."

"We can throw Kitty off the stage without getting arrested?" Santana asked with a serious face.

Tina shook her head. "Santana…"

"Oh come on, you know you want to do so too. She's has an attitude problem and I don't know why. We didn't do anything to her."

"You can't throw Kitty off the stage," Mercedes said before turning her attention back to Brittany who was laughing. "So, what's the good news?"

"Well, I heard from Kurt that Emma is very happy about how the tour's going. Because of this, she's agreed to let out go out tonight."

"Go out, as in _go out_?" Tina asked, not believing her ears. They hadn't been able to go out in night for a couple of weeks, not with the Limettes' crazy schedule.

"Yes."

"It's about time we're allowed to have some fun outside of being on stage," Santana said. "So, bonita, where are we going to?"

Mercedes checked her watch. "It's almost nine thirty? What place is going to be open at this time? All restaurants are closed by now."

"Apparently, we're not going to restaurant," Brittany said. "It's supposed to be this club and lounge. Place doesn't close until three in the morning. And I far as I know, it's sort of integrated. No 'whites only' sign in sight."

"Well, that's refreshing to hear," Tina mumbled. She wasn't too sure about going to this club, but she guessed it would be nice to experience the night life once in her lifetime. "What time we're going?"

"Right after the show, literally. Emma wants us on the bus by ten thirty."

"Nice."

"Now that's what I'm talking about."

"I know. I'm quite excited. I heard the club has great reviews."

Santana, while wiping off some mascara with a wet rag, turned and faced Brittany. "Do you think people would be too suspicious about two women dancing together?"

Mercedes and Tina only looked at each other.

"Not as much as they would if it was two men."

"Good point," Tina added.

"Good. I'm not the mood to act like I'm interested in men tonight," Santana glanced back at Brittany. "I don't think Brit will be too happy if I'm all over a man who isn't gay."

Brittany nodded in agreement.

"I'm sure you two will be fine," Mercedes said. "Just as long as you don't start 'getting intimate' on the dance floor."

Santana grinned. "Darling, you don't have to worry about a thing. I save those times for the bedroom. I don't want other people to watch. It may get them jealous."

Tina blushed.

Brittany slowly rose from her seat and approached Santana. She smiled when Santana stopped removing her makeup and allowed the Cheerio to wrap her arms around her. She sighed softly as Brittany kissed Santana's shoulder and slowly moved her hands along the singer's sides. "This dress looks perfect on you. I wish Sue would let the Cheerios wear something like this, but she doesn't want us to ruin our good girl image."

Santana covered Brittany's hands with hers and stared at the Cheerio through the mirror. "I'll wear it more often if you want."

"I would like that."

Tina and Mercedes glanced at each other. It was quite obvious that Brittany and Santana had completely forgotten that they were feeling up on each other, whispering sweet nothings to each other, with Mercedes and Tina close by.

Mercedes couldn't lie. She was a bit jealous about what Santana and Brittany were having. They didn't seem worried about anything. They hadn't been since the beginning and they had hit off after knowing each other for a week.

"Not to mess up your romantic moment, but can you two keep your displays of affections to yourselves?" Mercedes laughed when Brittany let go of Santana and took a step back in embarrassment. She chose not to pay attention to the glare Santana was directing at her.

* * *

Sam knocked on Artie's door for the umpteenth time. He grumbled when once again, his knocking went unanswered. He was starting to get frustrated with the bass player. All he wanted to do was relay a message Dave had given him. Sam didn't even know why he was the messenger boy for this afternoon. Dave had an assistant. Why couldn't he do this?

After realizing that knocking on the door wasn't doing him any favors, Sam changed tactics and started banging on it. He grinned to himself when he heard a crash and some shouting from inside the room. Finally, he had managed to get Artie to open the door.

"Hey, what's the big idea?"

"I was only knocking on your door for the past ten minutes," Sam replied. He looked behind Artie just to see a young woman wrapping her nude body with a sheet and wiping her mouth with a towel. Sam raised an eyebrow and frowned. "Wow, that didn't take long…"

"One of the many benefits of being a part of One Directions," Artie said, giving his band mate a feral smirk. "The ladies _love_ musicians."

"Do you even know her name?"

Artie blinked and glanced back his lover, trying to cover her face (and her body) most likely out of embarrassment. "I believe it's Emily or Emma. She's an intern or something…" he whispered so that his bed mate didn't hear him. She was hot, and he really didn't want her to leave him before things really hit off because of his horrible memory.

Sam rolled his eyes. He didn't have time for this. "Look, whatever, just be in the lobby in fifty minutes. We're taking the bus to this club to celebrate the early success of the tour, and make sure you go there _alone_. I don't think Dave would appreciate you bringing any groupies along for the ride."

"No problem, Sam," Artie said with a wink as he went back into his room. "I'll be there."

Sam shook his head and went to his next destination, cursing Dave and his wonderful plan to employ Sam was the messenger boy of the night. Seriously, was this what he got for having a good show? He sighed and knocked on the door in front of him. At least he didn't have to wait ten minutes for it to open.

Mercedes opened the door and groaned at the sight of Sam grinning down at her. A part of her wanted to slam the door in his face just in case Holly decided to pop out of nowhere.

It seemed that Sam was reading her mind because his smile dropped and he said in a serious voice. "Please don't slam the door on me. I'm not here to bother you. I just wanted to remind you that we're meeting in the lobby in forty-five."

Mercedes widened the door a bit. "Meeting for what?"

"Emma wants us to go to the nightclub together so everyone's going to be down in the lobby soon. Dave had sent me to tell everyone."

"Oh right, the nightclub." Mercedes raised an eyebrow then laughed. "So are you the new messenger boy now?"

Before Sam could answer Mercedes caught sight of none other but Holly Holliday and Emma Pillsbury walking down the hall in her direction. Thanking the Lord that the two women were too engrossed in their conversation to notice Sam standing in front of her room, Mercedes cursed, sighed reached out for Sam's arms and dragged him into her room, quickly slamming the door behind her.

"Whoa!"

Mercedes glanced at up Sam, who almost tripped over her shoes, with her back against the door, taking a deep breaths. She held a finger up to her lips until she was sure that Emma and Holly walked past them. After a few moments, she walked away from the door, glancing back at it occasionally.

"What was-"

"Emma and Holly just walked past by," Mercedes said. "You have the worst timing ever."

"I'm sorry."

"Not your fault, really." Mercedes sighed and walked towards the bathroom. She stopped, turned around and narrowed her eyes. "I hope you don't plan on going to a nightclub like that."

Sam looked down at himself. "Now what type of person do you think I am? Of course not," he grinned and lifted this tie. "I need to put this on and fix my hair. Though I should've gotten a bow tie. It's a look easier than using this-"

"What man doesn't know how to put on a tie?" Mercedes shook her and walked up to Sam. "Now, you should be ashamed of yourself."

Sam smiled sheepishly. "I do know how to tie it, thank you very much. All I said was a bow tie was easier for me."

"Right…" Mercedes took the tie and wrapped it around Sam's neck, working it into a knot. She tugged on the tie tighter when Sam smirked down at her with that infuriating glint in his eyes. "Stop looking at me like that."

"Stop looking at you like what?"

"Don't play with me, Sam."

"I don't know what-" Sam shrugged. "I didn't know you were an expert in tying ties."

Mercedes stopped and stared at him straight in the eyes. "There are many things you don't know about me, Sam Evans." Before Sam could respond with a kiss- oh, she knew that was coming, she finished, patted his chest and said. "Good, all done. Now, just stay here and don't touch anything. I need to change out of this dress and freshen up. I'll be quick."

"You don't want me to the leave?"

Mercedes walked towards the bathroom. "Yeah, so Emma and whoever can see you leave my room?"

"Good point." Sam pulled out a chair from under the small table and sat down. "Do I have to worry about Santana and Tina coming back?"

"No," Mercedes called out from the bathroom. She quickly came out to get her dress from her bed. "Santana's with Brittany and Tina's downstairs playing a card game with Blaine and Marley. I highly doubt they'll come up anytime soon."

"Okay, good."

"Do you have anyone else to tell about the trip to the nightclub?"

"Nope, you were the last one."

"You did that on purpose, didn't you?"

"Do I have to answer that?"

"Never mind."

Sam laughed to himself.

"Can you do me a favor?" Mercedes asked several minutes later, emerging from the bathroom, skipping around as she tried to pull up the zipper. She shook her head and gave up her fight when Sam turned around and scanned her from head to toe with a satisfied smirk. "Once you stop undressing me with your eyes, can you please help me zip up this dress?"

"Zip up your dress?" Sam stood up and approached Mercedes, not once removing his eyes from her. "I didn't know we've reached this part of our relationship. You should've told me something earlier."

Mercedes turned around and tried to point to the zipper. "Oh shut up, I just need help with the top half. I've been blessed with short arms."

"As you wish, my lady."

Mercedes rolled her eyes while Sam chuckled behind her. She stood still as Sam slowly pulled her zipper up. She ignored the way his fingers would ghost over parts of her back; this really wasn't the time for that. She nearly jumped when Sam suddenly wrapped arms around her, pulling her as close to him as physically possible. He planted a small kiss on her neck and breathed in. "Damn, you smell so good."

Mercedes cursed under her breath. Damn it, this felt like Syracuse all over again.

"Sam, we're not going this again…" she said, grabbing Sam's hands. "We're not supposed to be doing this."

Mercedes sighed as she felt a sense of déjà vu. This was the same thing she said back in Syracuse and five minutes later, she was lying on Sam's bed naked, with an equally undressed Sam hovering over her, worshipping her body in ways she could have never imagined.

"You said we can't interact in public."

"Sam…"

"Well, the last time I've checked, hotel rooms aren't public."

"We don't have-"

Sam kissed her shoulder. "We have plenty of time."

* * *

"Wow," Marley said walking out of the elevator and approaching the growing crowd in the hotel lobby. She avoided as many laughed to herself as she watched the security trying to guard Finn away from his adoring fans. "I can't believe everyone arrived on time."

Kitty nodded while trying to pull her skin-tight dress down. She looked hot in it, of course she did, but even she had to admit that tight leather dresses might not be the most comfortable thing to wear. "Of course everyone's on time. For once, we aren't going somewhere work related- Marley, can you check to make sure the seam's okay? I don't want it splitting when I sit down.

Marley groaned and looked at Kitty's dress. "Don't see no seams popping. Don't you think you should've gotten a bigger size?"

Kitty looked at Marley as if she was offended that her partner had the audacity to suggest such a thing. "No, this is perfectly fine." She smirked back at Marley before making her presence known to the rest of McKinley.

Santana snorted as Kitty attempted to twirl in her dress (to be honest, there wasn't much to twirl). She thought about giving her a snide comment, but Tina, ever the psychic, warned Santana that Emma _and_ Holly were only a few feet away. Santana crossed her arms and grumbled something under her breath about Tina always ruining the fun.

She looked up and snorted again when she finally saw Mercedes towards her. "Look who decided to show up…"

Tina nudged her friend. "Santana, don't start."

"I'm sorry but she said she would be ready in fifteen minutes," Santana said when Mercedes was in front of her. "That wasn't fifteen minutes."

"Well, she's here now- Hello, Mercedes."

"Hello, _Tina_." Mercedes rolled her eyes at Santana. She knew she was going to hear her mouth. "Sorry, I was busy." Well, she wasn't lying. "Dress malfunction."

"It looks very nice on you," Tina said, smiling.

"Thank you, Tina. You look great too. And for your information, Santana, the reason why I took so long was because I took a shower."

Tina accepted the excuse.

Santana, being the suspicious woman she was, did not. "So that shower must have been _real_ good, huh?"

"My God, Santana…"

Mercedes blinked as she put her jacket on. She briefly forgot that it was going to be cold outside. "What are you talking about?"

"Oh nothing." Santana raised an eyebrow. "It's just you look like you've just received the best back massage in your entire life. You're absolutely glowing."

She knew what Santana was implying and she didn't like it one bit. "Of course I'm glowing," she said, defending herself. "It's cold outside and I just came out of a warm shower. It's a nice a feeling."

"Oh, I'm sure it is."

Mercedes stuck a tongue out at Santana and walked to one of the large mirrors hanging on the walls, staring into it, wondering if she was really that obvious. She looked relaxed perhaps. But glowing? She sure didn't think so. Right when she was about to turn away, she caught Sam at the edge of her eye, walking down the staircase and towards the crowd. It was entirely his fault, she decided with a scowl- okay, it was her fault too, but she wasn't in the mood to admit things like this to herself. She narrowed her eyes when he waved at her before talking to Rory.

Damn him.

"Man, what did that poor boy ever do to you?"

Mercedes jumped when Kurt came up behind her and flung an arm around her shoulders, ignoring the dirty looks from Dave. She turned around. "What do you mean?"

"You were glaring at Sam as if he had killed your puppy or something. I thought you were trying to murder him with your eyes."

"Nothing," Mercedes lied, hoping Kurt wasn't as good as catching her fibs as Tina or worse, Sam. But from the knowing look in Kurt's eyes, Mercedes feared that he knew there was more to this story. "Nothing at all."

"Are you sure, Diva? Because that doesn't look like anything at all." Kurt sighed, knowing that Mercedes wasn't going to budge. At least, not now. "Okay, I get it. You don't want to talk about it now. But I expect a full story by the time we reach Baltimore. Understand, little missy?"

Mercedes rolled her eyes, saying "Fine," as she walked back to her group, passing Quinn and Artie, who were trying to be as inconspicuous as possible.

"I don't understand why you want to talk about this now," Quinn said, slightly glaring at Artie. "And you still didn't tell me why you wanted to speak to me."

Artie sighed and dug his hands in his pockets. He quickly smiled at Hunter and Sebastian who was walking past him, arguing about something as usual. "Because I'm pretty sure that once we leave, we won't have an opportunity to speak to each other without the others asking questions."

Quinn frowned, even though she admitted that Artie had a point.

"I know this guy in downtown Buffalo who has a stash of coke at his place. He has connections, you know," Artie said smirking at Quinn's suddenly interested look on her face. "He sells it cheap, real cheap and since you are running low on your stuff, maybe you wanna get some from him?"

"How much are you saying?"

"Much cheaper than what your supplier back home sells," Artie replied, lowering his voice when a group of background dancers for the Cheerios walked past him, giggling about something he really didn't care about. "I don't have the exact price. But I'm telling you, it'll be worth it. It's pure cocaine, from the Colombians. Not that crack shit from Harlem."

"I don't know him."

"I do. We go way back."

"But _I don't know him,"_ Quinn repeated. "I'm going to get some coke from a guy I have never met. What type of lady do you think I am?"

"I don't understand. You were complaining to me last night about running low and when I offer you some relief, you act like this…"

* * *

At the other side of the lobby, Rachel was frantically searching for one of her band mates. She was anxious to let Brittany know that Sam might not be as faithful she thought. She knew Brittany was not completely "in love" with Sam, but she still had the right to know. As soon as Rachel spotted Brittany, she ran up to her and pulled her aside, away from the crowd. She smiled at everyone to make sure she didn't look too suspicious. As soon she was sure that no one would hear her, she said. "Brittany, I need to tell you something."

"Can it wait? We have to go on soon."

"No, it can't." Rachel paused then said, "It's about your relationship with Sam."

Brittany raised an eyebrow, glancing at Sam who was telling Rory and Blaine a joke. Since when Rachel cared about what was going on between her and Sam? She always said she didn't want to hear anything about it. "What about it?"

"I don't know if you have noticed," Rachel slowly replied, "But it appears that Sam has directed his affections to someone who isn't you."

Brittany blinked, not understanding the big deal. "Okay…"

"Is that all you have to say?" Rachel asked in a hushed voice, puzzled by Brittany's nonchalant response. She was expecting another, more angry, reaction. "Sam has eyes from another woman, Mercedes Jones to be more exact."

"So?"

"So? How can you be so calm about this?"

"Rachel, I know about him and Mercedes. I knew about them before they even knew about them." Brittany shrugged, watching Emma and Sue head out of the hotel doors. "It's not really a big deal. There is nothing but platonic love between Sam and I, always have and always will. We're only together to keep Sue and Dave's mouths shut."

"B-but-" Rachel sputtered. "But Sue said that you and Sam are due to be at least engaged by the end of the year. You can't do that if he's with her."

Brittany rolled her eyes and began heading towards the exit, meeting with the rest of McKinley's singers. "Sue says many things. Doesn't mean they're all true. Come on now, I don't want to get left behind."

"Everyone can I please have your attention?"

Brittany and Rachel stopped to see Emma walk in the front of the group. They gave each other a look, great another lecture.

Emma turned around and addressed her employees. "Now remember, you are representatives of McKinley Records. Please keep adhere to that throughout the night. If there are any reports of shenanigans or inappropriate behavior from any of you, you will be punished accordingly."

She decided to ignore the annoyed looks on everyone's faces. Yes, she had said this little speech quite some times, but it was always nice to remind everyone of their responsibilities.

"With that being said, think of this as a reward for your good work." She smiled before leaving. "Have fun, but please do not get carried away." She kept on walking when Sue called for her. Realizing that Sue wasn't going to stop calling her name until the vice president final acknowledged her, she stopped and turned around.

"You're going to allow a bunch of twenty-something year olds in nightclub, with alcohol?" Sue asked, as she followed Emma to the hotel exit. "Are you sure this is a wise idea?"

"If I'm not mistaken, you're the only who said that your girls are some of the most well-groomed women you have ever met?"

"I did but it's not my girls I am worried about."

Emma raised an eyebrow. "Oh really? Tell me Sue, don't you find it weird that Quinn and Artie are becoming, how shall I say, close as of late?"

"And what the hell is that supposed to mean?"

Emma shrugged. "Nothing of significance. I'm just pointing out an observation," and with that she left the hotel, leaving a puzzled Sue Sylvester behind.

Emma made a mental tally of everyone who was going on the bus. She rushed up to Kurt, grabbing his Kurt, preventing him from boarding. She gave him a small smile, reassuring that she wasn't going to scold you. "Kurt, dear, can you do me a little favor?"

Kurt glanced at the bus, watching as everyone went on. He didn't have a good feeling about this. "I don't know. I'm not a favor type of thing."

"Oh, I assure you it will be worth your time."

"What do you need, Emma?"

Emma lowered her voice. "I'm sure you know about Quinn and Artie's relationship with… illegal drugs."

Kurt raised an eyebrow. "Yeah… what about it?"

"I have reasons to believe that they are back to their old games again. Quinn has been acting weird lately- she's not herself during the shows. And Artie- Dave has been mentioned quite a few times about his… lack of commitment to New Directions."

"Are they any marks- new marks on her arms?"

"No…" Emma began to walk around Kurt, rubbing her hands. She paid no mind to the odd look Cooter gave her before he boarded the bus. "But I just have a feeling. Artie has a history of being acquainted with those on the other side of the law…"

"You want me to spy on them?"

"Oh Lord, no." Emma shook her head. "I just want you to keep an eye out for the both of them. Believe it or not, you're one of the few people who know them the best."

"Will do, Emma."

"Especially tonight. Watch out for them tonight."

"If I see them participating in any sort of recreational drug use, you'll be the first to know."

"Thank you, Mr. Hummel, thank you very much."

* * *

"Now this is my type of place," Santana said before heading to the bar with Kurt and Brittany following close by. It didn't take long for the group to disperse. The older members were lead upstairs while everyone headed to the bars, the couches or the bar. Mercedes thanked the Lord that she was able to lose Sam and headed to bar. Of course by the time she got there, she was granted with the sight of Santana sitting on the bar, winking at the bartender as he gave her a Martini. Brittany was close by rolling her eyes and whispering something to Kurt who nodded in agreement.

Santana held up her glass as she was making an offering to the gods, "Oh Martinis," she announced in a loud voice. "Oh, how I miss you so much," and with that she downed the drink. Mercedes couldn't believe what she was witnessing and was about to chide Santana until Brittany wisely took her girlfriend's drink away and led her to the dance floor, leaving Mercedes alone with Kurt.

She looked at where the Warblers were sitting. "It looks like Blaine doesn't know how to keep his eyes off of you."

"Well, he needs to learn soon." Kurt grumbled, finishing a shot of vodka.

Mercedes glanced at Blaine again and then at the stylist. "What are you going to do about him?"

"Absolutely nothing," Kurt said all too quickly. He tried to distract himself by ordering another shot. "Blaine and I have a strictly professional relationship. I am only his stylist."

"Does he know about Dave?"

"Oh Lord no," Kurt gave Mercedes a confused look. "How did you-? No, don't tell me. You heard it from Brittany."

Mercedes laughed. "No, actually it was Sam. It accidently slipped out." She smirked. "So, Dave was the one who gave you those flowers and chocolates a few weeks ago? I just knew it."

"It was only an apology gift," Kurt said as if the fact that Dave, of all people, came into work on a day he was off to give him flowers and chocolate, was not all that important to him. Unfortunately for Kurt, Mercedes saw through the lie. "We were supposed to have a little, I guess you can call it a date, one night but he had to cancel because of some New Directions drama. I told him it was okay, because honey, when New Directions have drama, _they have drama_, but he promised that he would make it up to me."

"Wow," Mercedes commented, taking a seat because honestly, this wasn't something she expected to hear from Kurt. "You and Dave… I never thought of Dave as a romantic."

Kurt scoffed "Oh, no he's not, but he's trying. He's not that bad, once you get past his usual intimidating demeanor." He shrugged. "I have no issues with him, and thank God, he's not a clinger. I don't think you understand how grateful I am for that. Look, you don't anything about this, right?"

"Of course."

"I may be comfortable about- you know," Kurt stated. "But Dave- he's conflicted, you know? As far as everyone's concerned, he's into women and I think it'll be better if it stays that way."

"I completely understand."

"I don't- I'm used to taunts and insults that come with liking someone you're not 'designed' to like, but he's not. I'll just ignore them and convince myself that they wished they were as fabulous as me." Mercedes laughed. "But Dave's not. He may actually kill someone." He gulped as he watched a woman head towards a bar. "I have to leave, Diva. That woman over there is a fashion designer I have been dying to meet."

"Well, don't let me hold you back."

Mercedes didn't mind sitting alone. It was one of the rare times besides taking showers and relieving herself when she could be alone. She wanted to enjoy this precious moment, even declining conversations from some of the male clubbers. She did have a small conversation with a pro-football player, named Vince, who played for the Buffalo Bills. He was nice enough but she had immediately lost interest when he slipped out that he was married with three kids at home.

Once Mercedes finished her Shirley Temple, she pushed the glass aside and looked all over to see where the rest of the singers were doing. Finn was sitting on one of the lounge couches, sharing a cigarette and a beer with a pretty brunette, who had some striking similarities to Rachel. Quinn and Artie were nowhere to be seen, probably swapping drug dealers' numbers, Rachel had slipped out earlier when she couldn't find her band mate. No one had confirmed her suspicions but no one had protested her comments either. Rory was chatting with a few women near the entrance, grinning widely when one of his companions leaned over him seductively ran her hands along his thighs.

The Warblers sat around a table at the back of the nightclub, playing cards with other patrons. The only one who wasn't playing was Blaine. He only leaned on his hand, staring at Kurt, who was still not paying him any mind. He was having an intense conversion with a local fashion designer about New York Fashion Week. Sebastian had tried a few times to get his attention and get into the game, but Blaine brushed him off each time.

Kitty and Marley were standing near bathroom's entrance, having an argument. Mercedes watched as Kitty tried to force a straw into Marley's hand, and pointing to the bathroom. Marley looked distressed, and after a few more jabs, she stomped away, leaving a frustrated Kitty and her obscenely tight leather dress by herself.

Rachel and Tina were at the other side of the bar, laughing about something Mercedes couldn't catch. But she smiled at the sight. It was nice to see the two women have a good time. They both had acted tensed ever since the tour started. To no one's surprised, Brittany and Santana were on the dance floor, having a time of their lives dancing to "Twisting the Night Away."

Mercedes shook her head and chuckled as Brittany and Santana started slow dancing when the song changed to "You Send Me." Those two were a mess and they didn't even care. They were some people at the bar looking at them odd, but no one bothered them. They probably thought they were too drunk out of their minds to know what they were doing.

"Now what a pretty lady like you sitting here all by yourself?"

Mercedes at that familiar voice and shook her head again when Sam sat down on the stool next to her. "Good evening to you too, Sam. Why are you here? I thought you were getting cozy with that redhead on the dance floor."

"Aw Mercedes, you know the only person I want to get cozy with is you." He let out a hearty laugh when Mercedes' face flushed with embarrassment. "Don't worry about it, my dear. She only wanted an autograph for her boyfriend, standing near the entrance who didn't want to ask me himself because he thought it would be embarrassing."

Mercedes was going to respond but the bartender came along and asked Sam for his order. "I'll have a beer." He titled his head in Mercedes' direction, "And get whatever this lovely lady wants."

"Sam, you don't-"

"Look, I've agreed to let you pay for you food, most of the time. But we never said anything about buying drinks."

Mercedes gave him a look. It seemed that Sam had a talent in finding any loopholes in whatever arrangement they had. "Fine, I'll just have a Sidecar."

The bartender nodded. "One beer and a Sidecar coming up."

As soon as the bartender left, Sam moved his stool closer to Mercedes, ignoring the sharp look from her. Mercedes didn't say anything although his was obviously another violation of the "avoiding pact" they had agreed on back in Boston. (She didn't want to talk about what happened in Sam's hotel room in Syracuse or what happened in her hotel room earlier for that matter.)

Thankfully, the bartender was too busy giving Sam and Mercedes their drinks and dealing with other customers to pay much attention to them. None of the patrons gave them much mind, but it probably had to do with Kitty walking in the other direction, obnoxiously swinging her hips. If she wanted to get men's attention and spite women she was doing one hell of a job.

Mercedes mumbled thanks when the bartender handed her Sidecar and took a long sip, ignoring the way Sam was smiling at her- he really needed to stop doing that. She put her drink down and was instantly hit with the thought of Holly watching her. She frantically glanced around the club once more and didn't see her manager in sight. "Where are Sue, Emma- wait, where are all of our managers?"

"Brittany said they're upstairs. Apparently, the first floor is only for us young people," he glancing making a pointed glance at the dance floor, filled of people dancing in a way that would make Emma blush. "I'm glad they're upstairs, and knowing them they'll be up their all night."

"Nice. Now we don't have to worry about any of them breathing down our necks."

"My sentiments exactly."

The crowd cheered when "Twisting the Night Away" came on. More people flocked to the dance floor, dragging their dancing partners with them. Sam raised an eyebrow at the sight. Mercedes only smiled and continued drinking her side car. She nudged Sam on his arm with her shoulder, leaned in and whispered, "I think they're having a Sam Cooke marathon."

"I think you're maybe onto something, Ms. Jones."

"Now how many times do I have to tell you not to call me Ms. Jones?"

"Well, I can just call you Mrs. Evans, but then I think you'll slap me."

"Ha, very funny." Mercedes childishly stuck a tongue at Sam earning a hearty laugh. "No but seriously, this had to be the fourth song. Not that I'm complaining. I love Sam Cooke's songs and all…"

"My mom loves Sam Cooke."

"Really?"

"I'm serious. She would play his records for hours on end. Used to hate him when I was younger, because we would hear him so many times, and my mom doesn't have the best voice in the world. So hearing her trying sing, "Bring it Home to Me' was torture."

"Do you hate him now?"

Sam shook his head, taking a swig of his beer. "No, I've come to realize that kids don't appreciate their parents' favorite music until they get older. I like this song."

"You better," Mercedes joked, winking. "I can't talk to someone who doesn't like Sam Cooke. It's like a deal breaker. So what is your favorite song?"

"By him?"

"Of course. I want to know if you're serious about liking him, not saying it to continue talking relations with me."

"Bring it Home to Me."

"The same song your mom likes to sing."

"Yeah, maybe that's why it was torture hearing her singing it. I mean, she tried, but she's no Sam Cooke."

"Honey, there is only one Sam Cooke." Mercedes took a sip of drink. "But can you do something for me?"

"Mercedes Jones asking me for help?" Sam teased. "I never thought I'd see the day."

"Oh shut up. Anyway, 'Bring it Home to Me' is one of my favorite songs. I would like it if you sing to me one time."

"I don't think I'll do that song any justice. Like you've said. There's only one Sam Cooke and I ain't him, but- if you insist."

Mercedes leaned in and grinned. "Thank you, Sam."


End file.
